Place to be
by hellomynameislulu
Summary: For months Bella has been surreptitiously spying on a gorgeous guitar toting man who sits across from her in a secluded corner of Central Park. She becomes enthralled and the feeling is mutual. The problem? Both are too afraid to approach the other.
1. Chapter 1

Howdy Peeps! :)

I'm a little nervous about this to tell you the truth * downs another shot of stoli to calm nerves *. I've never wrote fanfic before I merely love to read them and decided I would have a little dabble.

This story will be pure fluff and lust. Its a Bella/Edward (Bedward?!) story mainly but will contain all the usual suspects and burn. AH, AU,BPOV/EPOV. Rated M for lemony goodness in later chapters and language.

I love music and the inspiration for this fic came from a Nick Drake song called 'Place to be' hence title. So music is quite a prominent feature in the first few chapters anyway. All lyrics are in italics and I don't own any of them sadly. I'll make playlists up for each of the chapters as I go along on my youtube account, my names TheLulujones on there if you want to find me. All outfits for Bella and Edward are posted on my profile (I'm currently obsessed with Polyvore) as well as links to pics of what I imagine their Park benches look like, apartments etc. Anything you might like a visual for basically.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of its characters, S. Meyer owns all. Lucky sod. ( if I did it wouldn't only be the La Push boys running around in denim hotpant's, and there would be sexy times, lots of sexy times). I don't own any of the artists, songs or lyrics featured here either, credit to whoever does. Lucky sods. And I dont own 'Slaughterhouse-five' Kurt Vonnegut does and its a kick ass book! "poo tee-weet?!' Read it peeps.

Okay here we go * smashes shot glass against wall and grabs bottle downing it *

Please review if you like, and even if you don't! Let me know what sucks, if there's anything that isn't clear I can have a word with Park Girl and Guitar Guy and try and sort it out. I'm thick skinned I can take it! (that's what she said! Mwahaha). Right I'm babbling now to put off posting this. Okay here we go this time.

**Place to be**

"_Now I'm weaker than the palest blue,_

_Oh, so weak in this need for you"_

_Nick Drake, 'Place to be'_

**Summary**

For months now Bella Swan has been surreptitiously spying on a gorgeous guitar toting man who sits across from her in a secluded corner of Central Park, NYC. Slowly but surely she becomes obsessed with the beautiful songs 'Guitar Guy' sings as well as the man behind them. However, she is too shy to make the first move and push herself over to talk to him. Unknown to Bella is the fact that 'Guitar Guy' has equally became infatuated with his 'Park Girl' but lacks the courage to speak to her. Fearing he missed the opportune moment when he first encountered her sitting on her bench singing along to The Smiths.. Instead he has been returning to the same park bench and playing his music for 'Park Girl's ears only, and praying she will work out the hidden message behind his song choices-just how weak he is in this need for her.

What happens when they fear they'll never see the other again? How will meddling friends influence their decisions? Will one of them or maybe both, muster up the bravado to talk to the other? BXE,AH,AU,OOC,LEMONY times ahead :P.

Songs featured in Chapter 1.

Ben Harper 'Waiting on an Angel'

Bon Iver 'Blood Bank'

Snow Patrol 'Spitting Games'

Jack Johnson 'Banana Pancakes'

David Gray 'Be Mine'

Big Joe Williams/Them/Van Morrison 'Baby Please Dont Go'

Playlist link 

(Remove the brackets and add in dots)

http://www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=9IUqN9ozmhw&feature=PlayList&p=BD12DB13720491C2&index=0&playnext=1

* * *

Chapter 1 - Jumping Jesus, holy cow

BPOV

"Shit! I'm really fucking late" I gasp checking the clock on my phone for what seems like the millionth time this morning. With a final once-over in the mirror in the hall and wrestling my shabby Chuck Taylor's onto my feet, I should really untie these laces I would get on a shit load better, I'm finally out the door. And tripping down the stairs. Obviously. Fuck, feet don't fail me now I've got a place to be. With my favorite 'Coffee-All the cool kids are doing it !' thermos flask in hand and my breakfast safely stowed away in my bag, thank baby Jeebus I thought forward enough to pack this last night, I'm freaking starving. I dash through the lobby of my apartment building at top speed and rush out into the magnificent extremes of the bustling streets of New York.

The first thing that hits me is rain. Fucking rain. Not just any rain though, that fine rain that soaks you right through. And guess who doesn't have an umbrella, yep that's right me. I sigh in frustration and try to ignore the fact I'm going to end up look like Medusa by the time I reach my destination. Its supposed to be June whats with the rain? June is summer for fuck sake.

I pull my leather jacket tighter around my body and pull out my iPod and plug myself in attempting to drown out the seemingly constant buzz of the streets with their wailing taxi cabs and screaming winds. I select the play list I always listen to when walking this familiar path. The one I have aptly titled "Guitar Guy". I put the play list on shuffle and I'm rewarded with the soothing sounds of Ben Harper singing 'Waiting on an Angel' floating through the ear buds.

I cant help but grin just thinking about him, Guitar Guy not Ben Harper, and revel in the resulting numb kind of tingling sensation which spreads like wild fire through my body. He's just so fucking... erotic. There really is no other word to describe him. I've toyed with beautiful, hot, sexy, all those depictions. But none of them were quite gritty or dirty enough to capture his essence. Stimulating is perhaps a close second.

Mind you I don't really know him. I mean I've never even spoke to him, so I cant in actual fact be a real judge on his true character. I have however admired him from afar, for quite a few weeks, *cough* months, now. I'm in no doubt its an entirely unhealthy obsession I'm forming, well have formed. But I cant find it in me to give two flying fucks.

Seeing him rapidly became a highlight of my week, which went on to evolve into some immense crazy girl craving that has to be fulfilled or I fear I'll turn into fucking Liza Minnelli or some shit. That woman married David Gest and hung out with Michael Jackson. That's plain crazy woman in my eyes. Since that's what happens when I don't fulfill my caffeine cravings. I literally start singing 'Cabaret' until someone sorts it out and flings a Latte in my face.

Similarly to my caffeine cravings, the wanting comes in waves daily to be in Guitar Guys presence. And I'm not sure Mr. P my trusty purple rabbit friend can cope much longer with the demand hes under these days. I let out another sigh in a tragic attempt to make myself feel better. It doesn't work. Sighs are not orgasms.

Unfortunately,well as far as I know, from my fucktabulous stalking/hunting/detective skills he's only there on Wednesday and Friday mornings from about 09. 15 to I'm not entirely sure when. Since I am trying to be all discreet and incognito in my infatuation and only stay as long as it takes to finish my coffee, eat breakfast and 'read' a few pages of my book. When I say read I really mean drool and gawp at Guitar Guy. In fact what time is it...double fuck its nearly 10. I really hope I haven't missed him I don't think I'll be able to last a week singing fucking 'Cabaret'.

I ram images of myself in Liza Minnelli's club entertainer costume, you know the black gartered hot-pants jumpsuit and black stocking number, to the back of my mind and focus on the lyrics of the song.

_Waiting on an angel  
one to carry me home  
hope you come to see me soon  
cause I don't want to go alone  
I don't want to go alone  
don't want to go  
I don't want to go alone_

Turning up the volume on my iPod to try and calm my mind and pushing my legs to work that little bit faster I rush past the other people on the street and struggle not to glower at anyone brainy enough to have an umbrella on them. My iPod shuffles to the next song, 'Blood Bank ' by Bon Iver and I smile remembering the beautiful and mysterious tone of his voice as he sang this song a few weeks back. I ended up spending ages on the internet that night trying to work out what song it was so I could add it to my play list. Only problem was I could only remember the lyrics "we started to kiss", I think I blacked out after those words left his lips.

_'You said "ain't this just like the present  
To be showing up like this"  
As the moon waned to crescent  
We started to kiss_

_  
And I said I know it well'_

Finally reaching the gates to the park I rather awkwardly jump over the muddy puddle already gathering at the entrance and head straight for my vantage point. Taking the first path on the right following it to the end and taking the left at the fork in the path I breathe a sigh of relief when the sound of a softly strumming guitar hits my ears.

Only just managing to contain the happy dance that wants to burst free I round the corner towards 'Guitar Guy'. Screwing my face up in a rather unattractive stance I squint through the soft dewdrop rain and can see him straight ahead. Hes in his usual place on the bench across from mine looking in the opposite direction to me and playing away. Glad that he's not facing me I take the opportunity to bug my eyes out of my skull and stare real hard at him. He he, hard...oh god the 'Guitar Guy' induced incoherency has started.

He looks different today, he's slouched over, instead of sitting tall and proud. As he turns his head towards my bench I take in his profile. The set of his strong jaw gives the impression he's sad or dejected or some other emotion I cant quite put my finger on. He's usually so happy as well, its a stark contrast to the man I usually see.

When I finally drag my eyes away from his magnificent jaw I do a quick scan of the rest of his face and have an internal fan girl squeal when I notice his five o'clock shadow. Bow chicka wow wow. That man is perfection without the stubble, but with..Jesus there is no words. Hence the Bow chicka wow wow.

Pulling my headphones out and shoving my iPod into my jacket pocket I make my way over to my bench, gauchely wiping the few rain drops which have managed to squeeze their way through the protection of the canopy of leaves provided by the trees overhead with my sleeve.

I take up my usual half lotus sitting position on my bench. Rather bravely for me I look straight in Guitar Guys direction. Fuck he's looking right at me. He must have heard me clambering up onto my perch. Without moving his eyes from mine he flashes me a smooth half grin and continues singing.

I imagine I look like a deer caught in the headlights, but cant quite manage to give a fuck at the moment since hes still smiling in my direction. I try but I cant for the life of me force my, most likely boggling eyes, away from his. I'm sure its only minutes before he gets freaked out by the crazy staring girl and does a runner. I decide I may as well seize the moment and use it to thoroughly examine him.

From this distance I can make out the blueish-green depth to his sparkling eyes. His right eye appears to be darker than the other and I have to literally grab onto my seat to stop myself from crossing the expanse separating us to get a closer look. I can feel my face squinting and wrinkling again under the immense strain I'm subjecting my eyes to in my attempt to get a closer inspection but don't register the fact I must look like one of those wrinkly bald cats before its too late.

I'm quickly brought out of my daze though by the sound of a deep but quiet chuckle coming from my subject. Shit, Iv been caught. Immediately averting my eyes to my lap, I cringe as I can feel the blush spreading over my whole body. Its seriously ridiculous how red my body can turn in the matter of seconds. I'm not even gonna start with the various nicknames by blushing earned me in High School. I had really hoped I was gonna grow out of it. But here I am 4 years out of School and still blushing like a pubescent girl whose crush just spoke to her.

There's another small chuckle and I pray he hasn't noticed my traitor body's reaction to his presence. I quickly remove my bag from my shoulder and pull out my usual props; my beaten up copy of 'Slaughterhouse-Five', and my Pepe le Pewe lunchbox. Opening up my book I begin my routine of pretending to read, whilst surreptitiously peeking over at guitar guy and hanging on to every word he sings. Its only at this point I register the song he's been playing since I appeared and I'm pretty chuffed its one I already know. In fact I fucking love this song, its one of my favorite Snow Patrol songs.

_'I broke into your house last night  
And left a note at your bedside  
I'm far too shy to speak to you at school  
You leave me numb and I'm not sure why  
_

_I find it easier to sit and stare  
Than push my limbs out towards you right there  
My heart is bursting in your perfect eyes  
As brown as chocolate and as pure as skies'_

Ah-buh? Hold the phone?! What the fuck fuck fuck! Shit am I hearing things.. oh man I think I've finally cracked, all this perving from a distance has caught up on me and reality's seriously slipping away. I'm almost 80% certain he sang about brown eyes just then, and I know for a fact the original lyrics are 'as blue as oceans and as pure as skies'.

I quickly glance up in guitar guys direction and I'm instantaneously snared into his penetrating gaze. Fuck he's all take no prisoners with those baby blueygreens. He doesn't look as though he's aware of his slip up. I start to squirm under his gaze again. It feels like he's searching my face for something almost. I hastily swipe my lunch tin onto my lap and set about pulling out my breakfast. A pile of pancakes and a banana to go along with my coffee. I refocus on my book and manage to read a whole three sentences whilst munching on my pancakes.

"You ever put a full-length mirror on the floor, and then have a dog stand on it?" Trout asked Billy.  
"No."  
"The dog will look down, and all of a sudden he'll realize there's nothing under him. He thinks he's standing on thin air. He'll jump a mile."  
"He will?"  
"That's how you looked--as though you all of a sudden realized you were standing on thin air."

I'm pretty sure that's what I must look like to Guitar Guy whenever he catches me all eyes agog. I sigh and take a drink of my coffee. Peeling my banana I contemplate showing off my awesome gag reflex skills to Guitar Guy but quickly realize it would only end in disaster. I don't think choking on a banana would be a good move. Actually maybe it would.. if I choke he'd need to do the Hein rich maneuver on me, or the kiss of life..or both. Shit this could actually be the best idea I've ever had, well apart from the whole possibility of death by banana. Would make an awesome inscription on my grave stone though.. Guitar guy strums his guitar again ensuring its in key before launching into another song. This one I recognize instantly. Shit on a stick. He so knows I'm stalking him. I'm fucking busted.

_Can't you see that it's just rainin' _

_There ain't no need to go outside _

Well there is if your a stalker...

_But baby, you hardly even notice _

_When I try to show you this song _

_It's meant to keep you _

_From doin' what you're supposed to_

What like handing myself into the police and declaring my mad stalker tendencies... I really don't want to end up someone's bitch quite yet, well unless Mr. Guitar Guy you happen to also be declaring a similar stalker like tendency....

_Like wakin' up too early _

_Maybe we could sleep in _

Ha, we wouldn't be doing any sleeping sweetheart..

_I'll make you banana pancakes_

_Pretend like it's the weekend now _

It was as this point I realized I'm staring at him, yet again, well I'm not entirely sure if I stopped in the first place, with a banana in one hand and a pancake in the other and for some reason he's paused in the middle of the song to look right at me all expectantly. I look on confused as he gently shakes his head from side to side in a kind of exasperated manner. I watch enthralled as tiny drops of water shake out of his hair like little diamonds glittering in the sun before he continues playing, looking back into my eyes intently.

_And we could pretend it all the time _

_Can't you see that it's just rainin' _

_There ain't no need to go outside_

Another pause. Fuck, is that what he's getting at? there really isn't any need to be outside in the rain in the middle of a park eating breakfast. Shit, does he want me to admit I'm stalking him or something?!

_But just maybe, like an ukulele _

_Mama made a baby _

_I really don't mind to practice _

_Because you're my little lady_

Another pause. Can I just say again Ah-buh?.. What's he getting at this time..

_Lady, lady love me_

_Because I love to lay here lazy _

_We could close the curtains _

_Pretend like there's no world outside_

_And we could pretend that all the time_

He continues the rest of the song like normal and I return to eating my breakfast. I attempt to rationalize through my Guitar Guy incoherency what the fuck the dramatic pauses are all about but come up blank. And why exactly did he choose to play 'Banana Pancakes'. After much internal debating, about 30 seconds worth, all I can come up with is that I have in fact officially lost it. I mean I'm trying to find significance in the song choices of some shit hot guitar toting hobo who hardly even notices I exist. And I mean why would he notice me anyway I'm just plain old Bella. Maybe I should get a shrink appointment. Might be able to get some good meds out of this fuckery.

Finishing up my breakfast I stow my lunch tin and thermos flask away in my bag and settle back into the bench book in hand. The rains completely stopped now and the suns rays are blaring up the path right into my eyes. Yay! Sun! Pulling out my sun glasses from my bag I plonk them on my face and thank mother nature for allowing me the use of my favorite prop. The spy glasses. I can now freely ogle in his direction and he ain't none the wiser. Mwahaha.

Peeking up I can see guitar guys looking in my direction. If i wasn't stalking his ass-candy and gawping at him constantly I think I would have found his gaze a bit creepy... perhaps. Actually, I'm talking shit, his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration and he's sucked the skin of his cheek into his mouth at one side and is gently gnawing on it. That look isn't creepy, its orgasmic.

Feeling a surge of bravado and heat from somewhere deep within my body, most likely my hoo-ha, I 'unconsciously' ,ha my ass!, run my fingers through my long hair from root to tip before repeating and pausing halfway down the length of my hair and twisting my wrist until I reach then ends. Watching guitar guys face the whole time.

His eyes narrow and his gnawing becomes harsher. Me hoo-ha likey.. I oh so 'subtly' lick my lips slowly before softly sucking both into my mouth and releasing them, licking again and then catch my bottom lip between my teeth and gently chew. I've heard from good sources this little 'innocent' girl routine works. Well, according to Rosalie and Alice guys eat this shit up.

I watched with pure adulterated delight as Guitar Guys eyes flutter closed, his long dark eyelashes delicately resting on his cheeks as he swallows deeply and his Adams apple bobs up and down. Relishing in my new found prowess I wait until his eyes flicker open and focus in my direction again. I very innocently, well I hope that's how it looks, move my hair behind my ear exposing my neck and collar bone to him. I lightly scratch along the bone and then soothe the skin by tracing and rubbing my fingers along its contours.

Guitar Guy swallows hard again. His Adams apple dipping and rising as he grasps the neck of his guitar with one of his large hands and I watch in sheer allure as his long fingers wrap around the instrument pausing briefly before sliding up and then down again. Fuck me.

Swiftly looking up to his face I note the cocky half smirk set on his lips before I'm yet again met with his piercing gaze. Shit I think he can see me through my spyglasses, well baws to that.

It feels as though all the blood within my body is rocketing up to the surface of my skin again at this realization. Fuckers playing me at my own game. I match his half smirk with one of my own which results in a full blown smirk from him and a kind of 'well played' soldier salute. I cant help the snort that bubbles up and escapes my chest as I return his salute with what I hope comes off as an air of indifference.

I return to 'reading' my book, and hear the soft strum of the guitar again as he starts to play. Its another one of my favorite songs. One I haven't heard in a long time. I listen blissfully to him gently singing David Grays 'Be mine', singing the words along with him in my head.

_From the very first moment I saw you  
That's when I knew  
All the dreams I held in my heart  
Had suddenly come true  
Knock me over stone cold sober  
Not a thing I could say or do  
'Cos baby when I'm walking with you now  
My eyes are so wide  
Like you reached right into my head  
And turned on the light inside  
Turning on the light  
Inside my mind hey _

_Come on baby it's all right  
Sunday Monday day or night  
Written blue on white it's plain to see  
Be mine, be mine  
That rainy shiny night or day  
__What's the difference anyway  
Honey till your heart belongs to me_  
_Like they fired it right at me  
And maybe when your heart and soul are burning  
You might see  
That every time I'm talking with you  
It's always over too soon  
That everyday feels so incomplete  
Till you walk into the room  
Say the word now girl I'll jump that moon hey _

If I had some influence girl  
With the powers that be  
I'd have them fire that arrow at you

Hearing a rather deep and long hearty chuckle,which I immediately recognize as Guitar Guy, I promptly lift my head in the direction of the sound and see guitar guy with a devastating grin spreading across his face. I note he's no longer singing but is still plucking away at the strings of his guitar. Looking around briefly I don't see anything that would make him laugh so I shrug it off and return to my 'reading'.

_Come on baby it's OK  
Rainy shiny night or day  
There's nothing in the way now  
Don't you see  
Be mine, be mine_

Huh. Go figure. Wait a minute, who's singing then? Fuck a duck, its me isn't it ?! Shit how long have I been singing along. Jumping Jesus holy cow indeed Mr. Gray. Earth, I'm begging you please swallow me up.

Mortification sweeps through my body and at the speed of light I snatch up my bag and flee in an attempt to save some kind of dignity. Scarpering back down the lane as fast my feet will take me without actually breaking out into a run. Because I will fall over and that shit wont make me feel better. I feel a small sense of reprieve as I hear Guitar Guy rather hastily cease playing 'Be Mine' and the familiar start up chords of Van Morrison's 'Baby please don't go' drift towards me.

For as long as I've stalked Guitar guy, and that is a while now believe me, that songs always the last one I hear him play and its always as I'm making my way out of the park. Today however I cant fight the embarrassment off enough to slow down and enjoy the energy he always puts into this song as I usually do. Instead I increase my pace and dart around the corner of the lane.

As soon as I'm out of his eyesight I pause briefly and let out a gust of air I wasn't aware I'd been holding in an attempt to reign in my emotions. I seriously don't know whether to laugh or cry at this fuckery. Ducking my head down and avoiding eye contact with anyone and everyone I pass I pull out my iPod and quickly change the play list from 'guitar guy' to something a bit more fitting. Trying to revert back to a happier time I go for my 'Songs that got me through Forks High' play list and I'm immediately met with Limp Bizkit's 'Break Stuff'. Yep that'll do nicely. Keeping my head down I trudge towards the park gate and stomp straight into the muddy puddle.

For fuck sake. Letting out a pretty damn loud maniacal cackle, I pause my stomping and just stand in the surprisingly puddle while the skanky water oozes into my chucks through the many holes in the soles. Apparently sellotape isn't waterproof or sufficient in holding trainers together. There's a tip for you.

Letting out another cackle for no reason other than I'm in a 'fuck my life' mood and really don't want to start crying in the street. Looking up from the puddle I'm met with a head of golden blonde curls and a pair of big brown eyes and smile thinking this must have been what Rose looked like when she was a kid.

I quit my musings when I finally note the terrified expression on the kids face and furrow my eyebrows at her. She's looking at me as if I'm the freaking wicked witch of the west or some shit. A slender arm reaches into my field of vision and the little girls yanked away and out of the puddle her little red Wellington boots splashing the muddy water up onto my bare legs. I cant help the third cackle that bubbles out, and look up into the disproving face of the little kids mother who's looking at me like I'm freaking Jethro Tull or something. Ha, if only she knew how on the ball she was. Well only if that song was really about stalkerish tendencies towards hot hobo guitar toting men rather than little girls.

Laughing again, internally this time, I step out of the puddle and continue trudging towards my apartment where the beacon of my huge comfy bed and a bottle of tequila call to me. Your supposed to drink Tequila Sunrise in the morning, right? Sun rises in the morning and all that, well that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it...

* * *

..

A/N

Yeah another authors note because my babbling above just wasn't enough. That and the stoli's kicking in now. :D Happy times! This chapter is just a teaser really in the set up of the whole Bella/Edward situation. I think I'll post BPOV again next chapter. And then after that I'll go to EPOV of chapter 1 and let you into the filthy mind of Guitar Guy...its a fun fun place to be let me tell you :P.

And because I'm a teasing whore next chapter is entitled "Chapter 2 -'Sex hair' and 'Wuthering Heights' take Bella to her happy place."

Hmm, whatever could be happening next? :P

Hit the review button and let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Hello peeps ! And Happy New Year, Hope you all had a great time!

People reviewed... I'm shocked and delighted! Some people even put Place to be on their fav story's and on story alert that's madness! I'm really scared I'm going to fuck it up now :s Thanks so much for the words of encouragement, they are much appreciated :D.

* * *

Disclaimer - I don't own anything Twilight, S.M owns everything. I wish she'd lend me Edward for a few years though. I dont own any of the artists, songs or lyrics or anything either. Or the line from the poem.

Songs featured in Chapter 2

Limp Bizkit – Break Stuff

Barry Louis Polisar – All I want is you

Kate Bush – Wuthering Heights

Poem – Elizabeth Barett Browning – Sonnet 43, 'How do I love thee?'

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Chapter 2 - 'Sex hair' and 'Wuthering Heights' take Bella to her happy place

( lulu clears throat,* cough-cough * and puts on cheesy voice over voice Ala The OC )

"Previously in Place to be......" :P (oh man how I love those cheesy voice overs)

I quit my musings when I finally note the terrified expression on the kids face and furrow my eyebrows at her. She's looking at me as if I'm the freaking wicked witch of the west or some shit. A slender arm reaches into my field of vision and the little girls yanked away and out of the puddle her little red Wellington boots splashing the muddy water up onto my bare legs. I cant help the third cackle that bubbles out, and look up into the disproving face of the little kids mother who's looking at me like I'm freaking Jethro Tull or something. Ha, if only she knew how on the ball she was. Well only if that song was really about stalkerish tendencies towards hot hobo guitar toting men rather than little girls.

Laughing again, internally this time, I step out of the puddle and continue trudging towards my apartment where the bea  
con of my huge comfy bed and a bottle of tequila call to me. Your supposed to drink Tequila Sunrise in the morning, right? Sun rises in the morning and all that, well that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

* * *

_Its just one of those days  
When you don't wanna wake up  
Everything is fucked  
Everybody sucks  
You don't really know why  
But want justify  
Rippin' someone's head off_

AAAhhhhhhhh...

Thats all thats been running through my brain on a constant loop since I exited the park. I think my brains screaming in pain from the embarassment.

I crank the volume on my iPod up as far as I can take it. That's what she said!. Oh man I cant even find that funny right now, which means this shit is bad. I have possibly the most juvenile sense of humor known to mankind. Say penis and I will piss myself. Biology class was the highlight of my fucking school career.

However quite possibly the most mortally humiliating moment of my life occurred mere minutes ago and now that the Guitar Guy incoherency is waring off and my subconscious is finally staggering its way out of the gutter I have no words for just how mortified I am right now. I cant believe I was singing at him ,oh god.I cant even fucking sing in tune. Ahhhh...

Reaching my apartment building I stampede my way inside. I stand around in the foyer rapidly bobbing my weight from foot to foot impatiently waiting for the elevator to descend. My heart is beating out a mad rhythm in my chest causing my whole upper body to pulsate. Holding up my hand in front of me I watch in fascination as it jiggles about as though I have the freaking jakey shakes or something. Nice... my body's decided its a lovely time to release some adrenaline into my freaking system.

Apparently Guitar Guy not only causes my mind to become incoherent but also causes my body to lose all control of the functions necessary to sustain life.

I could have done with this 15 minutes ago for fuck sake.

You know when I was trying to run away from the fuckery I managed to get myself into? "Fight or Flight"? Wheres the fucking danger now, eh? Spinning around I survey my surroundings and note the sad state of the potted plant on my left next to the reception desk. What the hells it gonna do turn into that man eating plant in 'Little Shop of Horrors'? I think fucking not..

It looks so depressed sitting there all alone. I know how you feel buddy I sigh. Am I seriously identifying myself with a scabby lobby plant. Jesus I need help.

Hearing the ping of the elevator behind me I swirl around and step in pressing the button for the top floor and pray to the heavens the chain doesn't snap and send me plummeting to my death. Because seriously its just one of those days.

I turn up the volume on my iPod even more to ensure I completely drown out the shitty elevator music that's supposed to soothe you but only succeeds in creeping me the hell out and pull out my phone and check for any messages. Nope no one loves me. I do have a voice-mail message though so I quickly dial my inbox and wait for the message to play.

And immediately wish I hadn't bothered. All I can make out of the warble coming through the speaker is the, shall we say 'distinguished' and shrill, voices of my flatmates Alice and Rosalie singing.

_"If I was a flower growing wild and free  
All I'd want is you to be my sweet honey bee.  
And if I was a tree growing tall and green  
All I'd want is you to shade me and be my leaves"_

It does put a smile on my face for a minute before I think of the reason they are singing that particular song and it quickly falls away and I return to my morbid mood.

Well like I said I have been observing Guitar Guy for a while now, that 'while' being about two and a half months. And well after a few weeks of me disappearing out the apartment at 9 in the morning every Wednesday and Friday Alice and Rosalie's inquisitive sides took over.

Alice especially wouldn't drop it saying she new I was hiding someone special from her, ha, and I ended up folding and spewing out all the twisted fuckery that was going on in my deprived brain to them.

Alice became immediately enthralled in my 'love story' as she refers to it and stole my iPod from me putting his play list on. She sat for hours listening to the music all starry eyed and distant then she'd suddenly snap out of it and write certain lyrics down shoving them in my face as though there was something important about those lines specifically.

Rose and I of course pulled out a bottle of Shiraz and laughed our asses of at her absurdity. That girl lived on Fantasy land and was just sitting about waiting for her Mr. Darcy or Prince Charming to come and fetch her.

She then became convinced Guitar Guy was trying to send a ;message' my way through the medium of music. Which resulted in both Rose and me busting a gut screeching with laughter and rolling our eyes at her. She retorted with a straight face and a quiet voice "One day Bella. You'll see.. I've already seen it...". That girl is batshit crazy. Although she doesn't stalk people, so maybe I'm beating her on the crazy stakes.

As long as I don't reach Britney levels of crazy and shave my hair off I should be all right. I hope. Rosalie merely laughed and verbatim told me 'its because of all those romantic clichés you both dote on in those stupid books you read. You don't see men for what they are and what they want in reality'. To which Alice leaped onto my bed and screamed 'I don't want realism! I want magic!' in her best Blanche Du'Bois impersonation.

Anyway back to the point, Guitar Guy had played this song on the morning of my admission to Rose and Alice and as a result any time I mention him they start singing this to mock me. Fuckers.

Closing my phone I chuck it into my bag and take out my keys. Crossing the fingers of my other hand I pray for something good to happen to me today and beg the gods above or whoever the hells running this show that Rose and Alice aren't home. I don't think I can face reliving the embarrassment quite yet.

Reliving it ?I'm fucking living it still and will be until I fucking die... Okay maybe that's a bit too far there. Because there is no way they'll leave me alone until I give them the low down on what happened with Guitar Guy today.

The elevator reaches my floor and I step out heading to our lovely penthouse apartment. I can never get over the fact I live in a penthouse in New York. Add to that the fact it has a freaking rooftop garden complete with Jacuzzi and my head near enough explodes.

Rosalie had inherited the apartment as a result of being her dear old Grandmother Pearls favourite grandchild, and well only grandchild.

I warily reach my still jakey shaking hand out and rest it on the door knob which immediately starts rattling. Ha, I take a profound breath and turn the door knob and let out the breath immediately in a frustrated groan as it turns full circle and springs open.

The witches are home. Well one of them at least. I silently plead its only Rose since she always allows me a cursory hour or so to wallow on my own before pouncing.

Making my way into the hall I quickly wrestle my now filthy, squeaking and sopping wet chucks and socks off my feet. I try to tip toe silently through the foyer, but give up as my worst fears are confirmed.

Immediately I'm met with the sound of Rose and Alice's raised voices coming towards me from the kitchen. I'd put any money on the fact they're arguing about the coffee machine,again. Walking past the door to the kitchen I head upstairs to my bedroom. My bed is still calling to me even if the Tequila which is rather tragically in the Kitchen with those two is out of the question...

Alice probably already knows I'm home anyway, she thinks, well claims she's psychic. I internally role my eyes at her and plod past the kitchen. Whilst climbing the stairs I can hear Alice and Rose shouting at one another.

"Yeah,that's right, you put the coffee in there and turn the little knob...No! No, no no!"

"Shut the hell up! This is right.."

"For the love of baby Jeebus its not, your doing it wrong.. again!

"No, i am not"

"There's no steam! Wheres the steam,eh? There's meant to be fucking steam!"

"shut up! There is steam..look there, that's your fucking steam right there.. what is it with you "

"What is it with me? I've been up for an hour now and I still haven't had a fucking cup of coffee!"

I cant help but snort at the ridiculousness of those two. Apparently instant coffee is for schmucks and reading the instructions to the fancy ass Coffee machine they insisted on buying is cheating.

Flinging my door open and slamming it shut again I dump my bag and soggy chucks onto the floor before launching myself rather ungracefully onto my bed narrowly missing landing on my abandoned laptop.

Starting my lap top up I decide there's only one thing that will make me feel better right now. I rather ironically need a singsong.

I don't know why but for as long as I can remember whenever I've felt down in the doldrums I've had a little sing song and it cheers me up. Thank fuck because I'd be the size of a house if I reached for the chocolate instead.

I always pull out the big guns when I'm down so a classic power ballads is necessary for times like these and I know exactly what song I need. Laughing at how fucking ridiculous the fact I need to sing,well shriek really, to make myself feel better after my appalling singing earlier. I turn up the volume as high as it can go. Laying back in my bed I belt along with the song.

_"Out on the wiley, windy moors  
We'd roll and fall in green  
You had a temper, like my jealousy  
Too hot, too greedy  
How could you leave me?  
When I needed to possess you?_

_I hated you, I loved you too_

_Bad dreams in the night  
They told me I was going to lose the fight  
Leave behind my Wuthering, Wuthering  
Wuthering Heights"_

My door bursts open and nearly comes flying of its hinges as Alice and Rose launch themselves into my room and jump onto the sofa at the end of my bed, screeching in tandem into their make do microphones. Which as far as I can tell are croissants.

"_Heathcliff, its me, Cathy come home_  
_I'm so cold, let me in-a-your window"_

I pretty much split my sides laughing at them as my mood lightens momentarily. Alice and Rose laugh along and look at me snickering away. My gloomy disposition soon resurfaces when I think back to the last person snickering at me like that and I feel my face fall. My heart rate picks up again and my face flushes furiously. I role over in my bed hiding my head under one of the many pillows. There's seriously about 20, I may have a bit of a pillow fetish. Simultaneously the volume goes down on my laptop and my pillow is snatched off my head.

I groan loudly and fling my arms over my head in a lame attempt at avoiding the inquisition. Strangely its Rosalie who starts it off.

" Bella, Bella, Bella,... come on turn over and let us see your pretty little face. I'm not going to badger what's wrong out of you, so don't worry, I just want to talk about your birthday plans"

See that's why i love Rose allows me to wallow. Slowly i remove my arms from my head and shuffle around to see Alice and Rose sitting at the bottom of my bed. Rose looks pretty damn chuffed with herself smiling all smugly and Alice has a devilish smile on her face. Before i know what's happening Alice dives at me pinning my arms to my sides and heartily laughs her little head off.

"Ahhhh, silly Bella !! Rose said she wasn't going to badger you. I however.. I am all for it, so spill!"

Rose moves up the bed to sit next to me and I look up at her angrily since she must have been in on this little ploy of Alice's. Alice shakes me quickly and moans "Bellaaa, come on spill!"

I quickly change my expression to a pleading look and implore Rose with my eyes to get Alice to back off. I really don't want to talk about this shit yet and can feel my eyes starting to burn with unshed tears persistent on being set free.

Rose just smiles and smooths my hair off of my face and says softly "You know she wont stop until you tell her. Just spit it out real fast ...

"That's what she said !" Alice sniggers.

"... you know like pulling of an Elastoplast, quick and easy."

"That's what she said !" Alice snickers again louder this time. Rose pauses smoothing my hair and rolls her eyes at Alice.

It does make me laugh this time though and a strange sensation paces through my body as a gurgling chortle escapes me at the same time as a few traitor tears run down my cheek. I laugh again at how stupid I'm being. I don't even know why I'm crying. I'm gonna go ahead and blame the adrenaline for this as-well I think...

Alice smiles at me sympathetically and wipes my eyes. Alice being Alice, is ridiculously perceptive and knows my tears aren't 'real' tears and carry's on with her inquest. She prompts me again with a soft "Bella, come on just tell us now and honestly you will feel better, I promise..".

"Fine!" I huff, and sniffle my nose noisily causing Rose to grimace a little in disgust, serves her right. "But you two better make yourself comfy and enjoy your premiere seats in a little show I like to call 'Bella's Mortal Embarrassment'.."

"What the fuck are you talking about ?" Alice interjects, apparently sympathetic Alice has left the building. She looks pretty damn confused with her face all scrunched up yet still manages to look adorable.

"I'm talking about the fact I'm a complete moron and just embarrassed the shit out of myself in front of Guitar Guy" I whine.

They both look at me supplliantly asking me to elaborate and I pour my guts out.

Alice squeals with excitement when I tell them about my attempt at 'innocent' flirting and nearly spontaneously combust's when I tell them about Guitar Guys reactions and his little salute. I still cant believe I did that. Seriously, where the hell that came from I don't know. I mean I was too shy to even say hello to him for over two months prior to today. And then, out of bloody nowhere, I blatantly flirt with him.

It was so weird at the time as well, I remember every second of our kind of strange dance but everything around just kind of blurred out of existence. It was surreal. It felt almost as if it was supposed to happen.. I know that doesn't really make sense but it was as if I was trapped in a moment that was just meant to be .

Maybe its a fucking full moon tonight and I;m going loopy as a result or maybe its the whole looking but not touching thing. My good old friend also known as Sexual frustration must be rearing its big old head and commandeering all thought processes leaving me acting like a fucking idiot.

"Oh my god Bella! He so wants you!" Alice squeaks through her fingers which she has clasped over her mouth in delight.

"Yeah right, as if... he was just being a guy and lapping up the attention .. right Rose" I look to Rose for back up. But cant ignore the intense surge of zeal that idea causes within me at the mere possibility of him wanting anything to do with me.

" I don't know Bella. I mean he's certainly playing along... and with what you've told us about him he's drop dead Fred gorgeous.. so he probably has any girl he could possibly want flinging themselves at him, right? Meaning he wouldn't waste his time flirting with someone he's not interested in.." She states earnestly, trailing off as she raises her eyes to me taking in my stunned expression.

This is not what I expected Rose to say. At all. Its not that Rose is a man hater or anything like that but she does tend to think rather lowly of the "lesser-sex" as she refers to men. I fully expected her to write him off as an attention seeking man-whore.. Alice interrupts my internal ramblings but I continue to stare stupidly at Rose, who looks back at me with an encouraging smile.

"Anyway, that's nothing to be embarrassed about Bella. You should be well chuffed with that. I mean you didn't even think he noticed you sitting there before,and now ? he's flirting with you! Result!" She fist pumps into the air.

" Yeah well I haven't got to the best bit yet.." I mumble before telling them all about my huge slip up .

Ever the supporting friends, they both nearly piss themselves when I tell them about my singing along to his guitar and his fucking gorgeous laughter at my expense.

"Oh my god ! This couldn't get any better.." Alice shouts, "..its like your a little duo, singing your little duets. You guys have a song now !! Aww....." She coos softly.

"Alice , you cant have a song with a guy you aren't dating never mind someone you've certainly not, and most likely never will, utter a word to ." I sigh and shake my head to try and clear it a little.

I hate to admit Alice is right and I do feel a bit better for opening up to them straight away rather than brewing in my own self abhorrence.

" But you have serenaded him.. " Rosalie pipes in and laughs at her own joke the volume rising like a fucking hyena as Alice joins in at my expense. Glad everyone seems to find me so freaking amusing today.

The twosome keep cackling away. Okay I retract that musing and wish I had brewed for a while and managed to fabricate an excuse for my shitty mood. This is seriously only making me feel worse.

I crawl over the bed away from them and turn the volume back up on my laptop before jumping up onto my feet and crossing to my dresser. Serious action is needed now if I'm going to snap out of this wretched mood. Snatching up my hairbrush I start singing again and banging around, swirling about my room.

_"Out on the wiley, windy moors  
We'd roll and fall in green  
You had a temper, like my jealousy"_

Rosalie crawls over the bed making a show of rolling her eyes at my dramatics and lifts the laptop into her lap she turns the music down again.

"Oh come on Bella calm down, its not that bad. All you did was appreciate his music and talent. "

Alice then jumps on the late to fucking arrive 'make Bella feel better band wagon' and pitches in.

"Yeah I mean, if anything Petal, he's going to be flattered.. seriously I mean its a compliment really.."

Hmm. Maybe their right...well not about the 'its not that bad' thing because its still fucking ignominious. But the fact I was singing along... that shows I was paying attention to what he was singing and playing, which you wouldn't do if you didn't admire them or find them pleasing. Pleasing. To please.. Holy moly how fucking pleasing I find him. And the ways I want to please him ..godd I need to stop thinking about this I can feel my body burning up again. Hopefully they wont pick up on it and will just assume its the embarrassment again, I take a deep calming breath and attempt to simmer down.

No such luck, Alice is looking at me with that all knowing grin of hers again. How does she do this voodoo shit ?

" suppose..its still fucking mortifying though" I finally mutter.

"Well I demand you cease your self pitying and tell us a bit more about him.." Rose probes me with a smile. I don't know how many times I've described him to them but I'm all game if it steers this conversation away from my craptastic morning.

"well that I will gladly talk about " I grin and take a deep preparatory breath before delving into the fuckhawtness that is Guitar Guy. "He is without a doubt the most disconcertingly handsome man I've ever seen."

I move back over to the bed and stretch out closing my eyes and remembering what he looked like today. "He has this thick coppery bronzy caramely toffee brown hair."

I can hear Rose and Alice snorting at my fan girl description of his hair but continue anyway. Thinking about him takes me to my happy place. Fuck knows what touching him would do to me.. I think my whole body would implode or explode or something.

" Its all glossy and floppy and dishevelled." I peek up at Rose.

"You would call it 'sex hair' " I smile.

" And he's insistently running his fingers through it, and you can tell by how easily his fingers flow through that its as soft as silk. I don't even think he's trying to tame it, its just some mannerism he has." I sigh.

"He has these immense deep soulful blueish green thickly fringed eyes..and one looks darker than the other, but that might have just been the sun or something messing with my eyes or the incoherency that latches onto my brain when I look at him, or when I'm anywhere near him, or think about him apparently... His face is all tanned this now from the summer sun and his teeth are really white, but not perfect like they're obviously the work of a dentist. And he had some manly stubble today and just looked completely panty droppingly hot" I sigh again.

"Sounds like a dream boat!" Alice fawns and mock fans her face with one of her little hands giggling like a schoolgirl.

"So what kind of clothes does he wear.. you know that's the important stuff right there.. it could be a deal breaker..." She teases.

I couldn't help but laugh. because considering our work area this really is an important point. More so for Alice though, I couldn't give two fucks if he walked about in a bin bag. As long as it was one of those really shitty cheap bin bags you know the white ones you can see through..... Oh god I think I'm having palpitations just thinking about what's possibly under his clothes. I have to bite down on my lip to retain the urge to drool or moan or fuck knows what at the mental images assaulting my poor brain...

Shit Bella, get your head back in the game. Okay I'im back. See, Alice owns a chic little boutique smack bang in the middle of Soho. Well not quite smack bang but pretty damn central. Well in actuality Rosalie inherited it from Grandmother Pearl along with the penthouse so she owns it technically but Alice runs it. Alice and Rose told me that when Grandmother Pearl owned the shop it was an antique furniture store. It took Alice and Rosalie months to convert it to a functioning boutique what with how picky they are. And their attitude towards actually reading instruction manuals. But eventually the boutique was born and in honour of Rosalie's grandmother, christened 'Grandma Pearls'. Which is where the three of us work. Kind of.

Alice is a clothes designer and is pretty damn infamous throughout the world of fashion. She designs classic old Hollywood style gowns as well as some completely original extravagant and sometimes ridiculous modern style pieces. But also designs modern kind of everyday clothes..well everyday to those who can afford the prices. At the moment her designs are in demand big big big time.

Where do I come in? Well Im a jewellery designer and maker. I trained as an apprentice under a very well known Jeweller in the city. This was my reason for moving to NY in the first place. Well that and the sleepy town of Forks where I grew up had jack shit to do in it regarding jewellery design.

After only knowing Alice for literally about 15 minutes I ended up moving in with her and Rose and quitting my apprenticeship to start working on my own designs which Alice insisted at the time was the right move for me to make and of course she was blooming right.

My designs are exclusive to Grandam Pearls and rather amazingly to me, they're doing pretty damn well. Ludicrously well considering I'm a complete unknown in this town. I've even had various pieces borrowed to star in films and for various celebs to wear at film premiers and special events. It leaves me completely awestruck. Probably helps that one of Alice's fashionista friends a renowned Stylist, Esther Davison often uses both clothing and jewellery pieces from Grandma Pearls for her clients.

Most of my designs are minimalist and modern but I also love the classic elegant styles and at the moment a lot of my designs are influenced by Rene Lalique.

I also have a tendency to use random crap I find lying around and incorporating it into the designs. My last set of items were inspired after reading The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, for about the millionth time. And a set of love notes I found in a book I bought in a second hand book store.

The love notes were so stunningly beautiful. Each one starting with "To my love" and ending with " God bless you my darling, my lover, X". I may have shed a tear or two reading through them. Anyway, each of the items of jewellery incorporated a bell jar with a section from the letters placed inside.

I loved them so much I kept one of the necklaces for myself with an Elizabeth Browning quote within the bell jar, _"How do I love thee. Let me count the ways..."_.

And Rosalie, well she's the official owner of the boutique and also a kick ass amazing fashion photographer. She does shoots for loads of prominent designers as well as lending a hand to smaller unknown names. And its with Rose the kind of comes in. She does all the shoots for Grandma Pearls but she doesn't actually work from within the store like Alice and I do. But since she does own the boutique she has final say in pretty much everything, and she isn't half business savvy.

The other thing about Rose and the fact she has overruling power over Grandma Pearls and its publicity and fashion shoots is her love for using 'real woman' as models rather than getting the models everyone else seems to use.

As a result she likes to use her friends and herself as models instead of "hiring in stick insects, when I've got real woman here". Consequently Alice, Angela, Lauren, Leah, Emily and myself who all work in Grandma Pearls have all been roped in on numerous occasions to model. And therefore get to stare at photos of ourselves plastered all over the walls of our workplace everyday.

We all moan about it but secretly love it. Its always a laugh we just end up in one of Roses private studios drinking cocktails and dancing about having a laugh. The resulting photos are carefree and insouciant and just plain brilliant in my opinion.

Half of them aren't high-quality enough to be used in the boutique but they make for great presents and wall pieces. And so obviously our apartment is covered in head to toe with these crazy ass photos.

Alice snaps her fingers in my face bringing me back to the present and eggs me on to continue my description of Guitar Guy. She's obviously intrigued as to what clothes he wears.

I laugh at her piqued interest and resume my appreciation of his beauty.

" Well he's rocking the whole 'I'm a brooding mysterious musician' vibe. Looking all dirty and lick-able in his flannel shirts, skinny jeans, leather jackets and fucking Doc Martins." I look up at them to enforce just how ridiculously sexy these boots are, shaking my head I continue "Doc Martins I tell you... But today he had on a pair of beat up converse..."

That match mine , well apart from the fact mine are purple and his are black, so really they don't actually match mine. What is with the sudden urge to have matching items of clothing, seriously, it didn't work for The Beckhams why the hell would it work for us. Us I like the sound of that..

"And then there's the fucking tattoos. He's got something written across his chest, I cant quite make out, because it peeks out of the top of his shirt along with some chest hair which just fucking kills me by the way. But its definitely some letters. And like a jigsaw piece on his arm just above his elbow on the inside, god knows where else he's got them..."

Rosalie and Alice are still laughing at my perhaps over-expressive description of his swoon worthy hair but I don't care. All I can think about is that fucking chest hair and tattoo now...god. In my happy place I writhe about naked in that hair I'm telling ya. I feel my face heating up again, this shits seriously not funny. I remember an episode of Greys anatomy when some girl, the blushing girl, I feel her pain, had an operation to stop herself from blushing. I wonder if that's a real operation or just something the writers made up? I might need to google that shit later.

"Breathe Bella, don't get yourself too excited .." Alice teases her tongue sticking out between her teeth.

I try to laugh it off and take another big deep calming breath making Alice snigger all knowingly again. We both look at Rose whose been rather abnormally shtoom for the last few moments. She's looking right back at me with a strange look on her face.

"Right, here's what your going to do .." Rose says authoritatively.

Uh oh, big red warning flags start swooshing in my brain, danger! danger!

"..your going to talk to him. Ah-uh.."

She silences me, as I start to protest,

"..You. Are. Going. To. Talk. To. Him. On. Friday."

I'm completely taken aback by this and just stare at her unintelligently, my eyes wide and mouth open in horror. Looking like a goldfish basically. Rose continues in a decided tone.

"You are going to introduce yourself. Its as easy as "Hello, my name is Bella. What's your name?.."

"Rose, I know how to introduce myself to someone." I scowl and role my eyes at her.

" You could have fooled me." She retorts completely stone faced, making Alice chuckle next to me.

" Friday Bella. You will see him Friday, and your doing it. No. Excuses. You better come home with his name or else I'm going to march you down there next week and do it for you." She finishes with a no nonsense tone, raising her eyebrow as if trying to entice me into attempting to oppose her.

Oh Hell no.. I'm not getting into a conflict with this crazy woman. Where the heck did this Rose come from..gee whiz. Rose is always so unruffled and serene and laid back. God maybe I'm not the only one that needs a little somethin somethin here... I cant argue with this woman, right I'll appease her and work out a way to get out of it. I suddenly feel a cold coming on say Thursday morning.. ha-ha. Eat dirt Rosalie cant blame me if I'm all ill and holed up in bed.

"Bella, stop trying to work out ways to avoid it.." Alice admonishes me. Fuck sake, how could I forget about little Miss. Know-it-fucking-all. I internally groan and try and think of another way I could get out of this, but Alice coughs and shakes her head at me in a kind of 'no chance' way. Seeing no way out and panicking as crazy Roses intense eyes bore into me I finally give in and squeak out.

"Fine I will talk to him on Friday."

Rosalie beams at me basking in her jubilation. Oh man there's no going back on this now...

"He's just going to laugh in my face though.." I grumble at her like a petulant child.

"Good then that's that sorted." Rose says happily as if his laughing in my face is a good thing,

" Well I need to hit the road. Got a shoot across town, with some dishy Calvin Klein male models.." She grins while waggling her eyebrows at us suggestively.

"Unlucky for some" Me and Alice say in unison and laugh.

"And we have to head into Grandma Pearls Bella. I need your help setting up the window display again, that Victoria persons getting the sack. I think she's confusing our quirky little boutique with freaking TJMaxx... So be ready in 30 and we can stop off for coffee before we head in" Alice chirps as she skips out of my room finally leaving me alone.

And that's when realisation hits. Shit, I have truly just agreed to talk to Guitar Guy and I'm actually going to have to go through with it. Or that scary imposter Rose who just left my room will seriously do it 'for me'.

The last thing I want to do is face him! I was just planning on buying a telescope and watching him from a distance... thats pretty fucked up actually. I wasnt really entertaining that idea...was I..

I thought your friends were supposed to pull you out of shitty moods not make them worse. Huffing I clamber over my bed and turn Kate Bush back on full volume and curl into the pile of pillows on my bed. Seriously fucking ticked off right now at being manipulated into agreeing to do something I really don't, well deep down I do want but I'm too shit scared, to do is fucking bullying and I'm tempted to chase after Rose and give her some random abuse.

Deciding imposter Rose is probably still in place of laid back Rose I curl into the fucking foetal position and bury my head screaming at the top of my lungs into the pillows to muffle out the sound.

Seriously. Fuck. My. Life.

Disgruntled I traipse into my bathroom to attempt to conquer the unyielding mess of supposed curls my hair has transformed into due to the rain. Looking into the mirror I laugh out loud at the bird nest on top of my head and the mascara trail running down my cheek a mark of the path of my traitor tears from earlier. Ahh, if guitar Guy could see me now.. I mock myself caustically.

The song ends and I prepare myself to start screeching along to 'Wuthering Heights' once again. Instead I'm met with the opening lyrics of Barry Louis Polisar, 'All I want is you' for the second time today. This version however is somewhat classier than Rose and Alices.

_If I was a flower growing wild and free  
All I'd want is you to be my sweet honey bee.  
And if I was a tree growing tall and green  
All I'd want is you to shade me and be my leaves"_

Fucking Alice. I cant help but smile as I recall the dulcet tone of his voice and the way he tenaciously thrummed the strings of his acoustic the first time I heard him play this song. Man what I wouldn't give to be that guitar...

I start to hum along with the beat and end up singing along as I brush through my hair and think back to what happened today. This time however I resolve to look back at the fuckery from a third person point of view. Remove myself as much as I can from the situation.

Its not that bad really, I suppose I can just laugh it off..well eventually hopefully, maybe not today but one day I'm sure I;ll look back on today and laugh my tits off about it.

Images of sitting across from my normal spot in the park next to Guitar Guy on his bench laughing about 'that time I started to sing along..' float into my psyche.

I may just be being demented but if that vision could become a reality... god, that would put me on cloud nine. With that inspiration in mind I resolve to start thinking of a way to tactfully approach Guitar Guy. Excitement starts to bubble up within the core of my body and spreads outwards making me feel all fuzzy and light-hearted as my resolution solidifies.

Friday, I'm going to take a chance and finally talk to Guitar guy.

I just hope I'm not going to embarrass myself anymore than I already have, if thats even humanly possible...

* * *

A/N

So Bells is going to put her big girl panties on and put herself on the firing line, or will she?...mwahaha

Next chapter is going to be the first EPOV chapter and will be his perspective of the fuckery that went down in Chapter 1, well thats the plan

So hit that review button and let me know what you are thinking. Any suggestions for songs Guitar Guy can play for his Park Girl would be much appreciated too?


	3. Chapter 3

Hello my lovelies :)

I cant believe how many people are reading my little attempt at fanfic it blows my brain, and I just want to say again thanks to everyone who reviews, adds Place to be to their favourites, or story alerts makes it worth writing this baloney :P

So this is my first attempt at EPOV, and I'm shit scared its well...shit. So please let me know what you think and leave me a review * flutters eyelashes * pretty please?!

Disclaimer: I own fuck all, seriously, nada, diddly-sqwat, I wish I owned Robs ass candy though* sigh *...and I've never been to NY or Central Park( I probably should have mentioned that fact at the beginning of this fic :/) nor do I have a beta, so sorry for mistakes and general crapness. Okay I'm finished now. :P

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Songs featured in Chapter 3

Bob Dylan – It aint me babe

The Smiths – This Charming Man

Bob Marley - Three Little Birds

Coldplay – Shiver

Van Morisson – Baby, please dont go

Peter Gabriel – Solsbury Hill

Led Zeppelin – The Rain song

Snow Patrol – Spitting games

Jack Johnson – Banana Pancakes

David Gray – Be Mine

(I also dont own Ron Burgandy or Anchorman, I just know way too many quotes for them not to pop up in here every now and then..*cough two minutes* :D)

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**Chapter 3- "_Speak to me only with your eyes, it is to you I give this tune"_**

**EPOV**

She's not here. Park girl isn't here. I'm a bit baffled by this fact. She's always here, where the fuck is she? Is it because of the rain? It cant be its not even that heavy. Taking a break from pacing a hole in the path I sit down on my usual bench and stare across at the abnormally empty and cold bench directly in front of me.

I blink my eyes a few times and refocus on the exact spot she usually sits all cross legged and awkward in some pathetic hope she's just going to materialize out of thin air like that shit you see on fucking Star Trek. Nothing.

Checking the time again I see its 9.45am and I'm at a loss as to what to do. I mean, I usually get here at about twenty past nine and I know for a fact she gets here around ten past nine every Wednesday and Friday. I know this because I went all fucking Mark Chapman on her ass for a while. Fuck I'd kill to be on her ass...

Right, back to the point...Well not Mark Chapman in the way that I want her dead or some shit. Fuck no. Just in the way that I hid in the motherfucking Rose bushes for a week at the same time every day like a complete fucktard until I spotted her. I got some seriously fucked up looks from people that week. Well even more than usual anyway, and all pretty damn well justified considering what I was up to. But thank God it paid off.

Pulling my guitar onto my lap I decide I may as well do what I come here to do, well other than eye fuck an innocent girl but only because she isn't here. Except today its not quite as easy.

See normally Park Girl is always here before me sitting at her bench like she's waiting on me, which subsequently allows me the opportunity on the walk up to my own bench opposite hers to roam my eyes all over her. Eye fucking or eye raping her..take your pick.

This in turn serves two purposes, the first being for my own sick pleasure because she's fucking gorgeous and I could do that all day. And the second it gives me the chance to absorb her facial expression and try and decipher her mood. And depending upon what I pick up from her body language or what she happens to be doing, she without fail sparks inspiration from some... inscrutable, entrenched place, deep within my body. And I know instantaneously in that moment what song I'm going to sing..for her. She just doesn't know that part though.. that its always been for her to hear only. Jesus, I sound like such a fucking pansy ass little girl.

Thinking back to the first time I saw her I cant help the fucking douche bag grin that slaps itself on my face. That meeting, well it wasn't really a meeting no fucking words were exchanged I still don't even have a clue what her name is for fuck sake. But that moment when I saw her that first time was just monumental, fucking life changing and she doesn't even know it.

I don't have a fucking scooby why but up until I 'met' her I hadn't been able to play any kind of music in front of more than a hand full of people for, fuck.. it must have been about 7 years. A hand full of people being four. And more specifically only for people I really love, my adoptive parents Carlisle and Esme, and my best mates Jazz and Emmett. The reason? Because up until the first time I met Park Girl I used to be a complete and utter pussy and have a fucking panic attack if I even attempted to play in front of anyone else.

Which sadly I learnt from multiple experiences, the most recent being about 3 years ago after a past girlfriend begged me to play for her and I stupidly finally gave in to her constant nagging. I got about halfway through the first verse of Bob Dylan's 'It ain't me babe' before the numbness encompassed me and I ended up a trembling, sweating, shaking, nauseous fucking wreck. Needless to say, that was the last time I saw her, and the last time I attempted to play for anyone, well until Park Girl.

Your probably wondering what kind of fucked up shit could have happened to me to cause the panic attacks and more then likely blaming the fact I'm adopted. Well its not, sure my biological 'parents' were fuck ups. Elizabeth was a raging alcoholic and killed herself while driving under the influence and Edward Senior, well fuck knows and cares what happened to him.

I was adopted when I was 3 so I don't remember any of that shit all I remember is my real parents Carlisle and Esme being there for every stupid little moment in my life. You know like my first day at school, first holiday, first broken bone, first guitar lesson, first girlfriend, every football game I played, prom, graduation..you name it Esme's got photographic evidence of that shit.

So what the hell happened that made me so neurotic. Well I don't know if I can lay all the blame on this one fucking moment but if I don't and blame myself I'll seriously never get over the guilt I still feel about the whole fucked up situation. Because theirs no way in hell I'll ever be able to make it up to Emmett and Jazz for annihilating our one fucking dream in life.

See Emmett, Jazz and myself used to be collectively known as _'Black Dog'_. It really is a shit name for a band when I think back to it but we were only young when we came up with it. We thought we were it and thinking back we really were too cocky for our own good We were like 10 years when we decided we wanted to be 'rock stars' and at that point Led Zeppelin where the fucking be all and end all of the world for us. Which is why we named our band after one of our favourite Zep songs, still doesnt make it a decent name though.

Anyway we used to get together practically everyday after school and practice, me on guitar and lead vocals, Jazz on bass and backing vocals and Emmett on drums. It was always covers we played to begin with. We just messed around and tried to recreate a plausible version of the sounds of the likes of Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, The Who, Pink Floyd and Jazz's all time favourite The Beatles.

By the time we were in High School we had started writing and performing our own stuff at different venues and clubs across NY where we all lived. We thought we were the fucking shit and the dreams of being the next big thing were still embedded in our brains. There was no fucking doubt in our minds that after school was finished we were going to be musicians and tour the fucking world. Failure wasn't even a fucking possibility in our minds.

We recorded shitloads of crappy quality demo's in my bedroom and sent them out to what felt like millions of labels and managements. We heard fuck all back for a good few weeks, probably months, but eventually one label based in NY got back to us and asked us to come in to meet a few guys and play a couple of tracks.

It felt like we'd hit the freaking goldmine and Em and me were certain this was it, our chance, that big fucking break we had been waiting for. Jazz however, said he had a bad feeling about it. And like usual the asshat was right.

We went to the meeting obviously, we couldn't pass the chance up just because Jazz had a strange feeling, it was probably some shit he ate anyway, and the general interview and chat went really well. We managed to make ourself's come off as half decent kids, since that's all we were at the time, I mean I'd only just turned 18 and was so fucking naïve.

Then we had to play for them, and that's when the shit hit the fan. There were only three guys from the label in the stuffy office the meeting took place in apart from Em, Jazz and me. We were asked to play one of our own songs that wasn't on any of the 6 or so demo's we'd sent in to the label. Which was fucking fine because we'd wrote so much other stuff anyway.

I can remember sitting looking at the three guys from the label all sitting in a row with their blank expressionless faces. Only one of the guys, Aro, the one sitting in the middle had been talking to us. The other two didn't utter a single word or make a sound, they just sat there like bookends the whole time. Aro ,the big cheese I assumed, he seemed nice enough though with his receding hairline, swanky suit, and pungent expensive aftershave that just screamed 'I've got shit loads of money!'. He seemed like he took no ones shit, and I liked that.

So we started playing, and I like usual thought we were fucking immense.. the three of us were really giving it everything we had. Apparently not though.

The memory gets a bit hazy after that point, probably for the best, but I can remember I kept my eyes trained on Aro the whole time we played. Trying desperately to work out what was going on in his mind behind the blank expression.

We were nearly finished the song when Aro's still blank face turned to his left his dark cold eyes looking searchingly into one of the bookends who stared back for a few seconds before he subtly shook his head. I watched in dread my heart plummeting in my chest as he glanced quickly into my eyes and then turned to his right towards the other bookend who was already shaking his head 'no'.

I knew instantly what the fuck was going on obviously, and that's when it happened. I had my first fucking panic attack. I didn't know that's what it was at the time, hell, I didn't know what was happening, I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't fucking move and I couldn't for the life of me calm the fuck down. I just froze. The last thing I remember was the sound of Emmett's drums stalling, and someone shouting my name and then, I blacked the fuck out.

When I eventually came back around I was alone in my bedroom at my parents house and didn't have a fucking clue how I got there. Turned out Emmett had to prop me up on his shoulder and drag my ass out of the building and into Jazz's fucking shitty pimp white Cadillac.

Carlisle's a pretty fuckawsome Doctor so obviously he was the first person I spoke to about what had happened. When I recounted to him every detail I could remember before everything just fading into non existence he was positive it was some kind of Panic attack or Anxiety attack that I'd had. He was also sure it was a one off incident, and just a result of me getting myself so stressed out and freaked because we weren't gonna get anything from the label. Then followed the big 'you can do it son','don't give up on your dreams', tag team lecture from both Carlisle and Esme... It would have been hilarious if I wasn't so unnerved about what had happened earlier. Feeling somewhat more relaxed after talking to Carlisle I decided to test his theory that it was a one off and played a few songs to them that evening and to my fucking relief I was perfectly fine.

Unfortunately a few weeks later turned out I wasn't fine. The next gig we played after the whole fucked up situation with the label and my 'kinda funny, funny turn' as Emmett decided to call it was at a 'Battle of the Bands' gig in front of about 40 people, plus all the other participating bands.

And it happened again. It wasn't as bad the second time around though, I didn't black out like the first time, the fear just fucking gripped me and I froze up. It was fucking mortifying though I've never been so embarrassed in my life as I was in that moment... and once again I'd let Jazz and Emmett down which just sucked ass.

I tried doing a couple of open mic nights myself after that, to save Emmett and Jazz the embarrassment of me freezing up on stage. They came along for like support or some shit though. Just to test the water you know, see if I was better. I never even made it up on to the stage both times, as soon as I picked my guitar up I could feel the disturbing numbness inching over me.

It became pretty damn clear after that Black Dog was a fucking dead dog when the jerkwad of a guitarist and lead singer couldn't even pick up his own guitar, never mind get a fucking foot on the stage.

Groaning at the memory of that shit and the always accompanying burning in my eyes I lean back into the support of the bench and rub my hands over my face, scrubbing my eyes with my knuckles and then the heels of my hands. What kind of man sits in a park by himself nearly in tears. For fuck sake.

But for the life of me I'll never forget the look of absolute devastation and disappointment on Emmett and Jazz's faces after that final open mic night. We just knew it was the end without really ever saying it. We still played just the three of us, but it just wasn't the same without an audience to bounce off of, it wasn't conquering the world like we'd always dreamed of..

Taking a long slow breath then releasing it in a huge sigh I try to get control on my emotions and take a minute to look around at my surroundings. Huh, there's a fucking fountain at the end of the path up ahead, I never noticed that shit before..Trying to think of something a little less depressing than my fucked up shit that destroyed my own as well as my two best friends aspirations. Yeah, that's not helping Edward.

I close my eyes and rest my hands on the guitar in my lap thinking back to the first time I saw Park Girl sitting on that bench just feet away from me, that was the moment my luck changed, and cant help the douche bag fuckoff grin that slaps itself on my face.

Its fucking preposterous just how much detail of that day I can hark back to mind. Well I suppose it was a pretty fucking significant day for me. It was a Wednesday morning and I had left the apartment fuck early to pick up a new acoustic guitar from a tiny guitar shop right next to Central Park. It was the beginning of April and for the past few days it had been pissing down. But this morning it was dry and looked like it could be a pretty nice day. The early morning sun was at least trying to battle its way through the blanket of brilliant sapphire and purple clouds which had been monopolizing the sky above.

I took a bit of a detour home and wandered around the Park just enjoying the fact it wasn't raining for the time being. I don't know how long I'd been roaming around aimlessly but somehow I ended up in a kind of secluded quiet path and stopped in my tracks at the sight in front of me.

It was such a ridiculous reaction. I didn't consciously do it though, I just fucking froze up. At first I thought I was having another panic attack as my heart rate became completely erratic, but I was aware of everything around me still and the spasmodic movements within my chest were different. Instead of feeling weighed down with terror I felt all bumblefucked like I was drunk and light headed and yet at the same time fucking ecstatic.

It was a girl. Just a girl. She was sitting on a bench just to the left of where I was frozen all long legs and shiny brown hair with her back turned towards me. She was only a couple of feet away and I could hear her singing softly along with her iPod.

I recognized the song right away it was _The Smiths, 'This Charming Man'_, and she was at the _'na,na na,na na,na na, this charming man'_ part. It was fucking riotous, I honestly thought I was going to piss myself from trying not to laugh out loud and make her aware of my presence. She was making her voice go all low like a bass singer and shit attempting to imitate the deepness of Morissey's voice... and failing miserably.

It made me smile like a nancy boy and snapped me out of my embargo. Looking around I spotted a bench across the path from her and made my way over to it sitting down stretching and lounging back. She didn't notice me at first, and I took advantage of that fact and just sat like a creepy motherfucker watching her every move with a twisted and sick debauched grin on my face.

She eventually stopped singing and started bobbing her head around to whatever she was listening to now while reading some book. Her hair had been hanging over her face hiding it from me but she slowly tucked it behind her ear exposing her pale skin. Her face was all screwed up in careful concentration and she looked fucking gorgeous.

It was at that moment the sun decided to bust its way through the clouds and be all bright and shiny lighting up the whole area around us like someone had flicked on a light switch somewhere. I watched her as the sun broke through the canopy of trees above our heads and shone down. She fucking took my breath away. I mean seriously, no oxygen meeting the little broccoli like bronchioles of my fucking lungs I'm suffocating, took my breathe away.

She was wearing a flowing white dress with huge chunky jewellery that looked like it was made with buttons or some shit, and her hair was all melted chocolate brown and auburn velvety fucking long and shiny down her back. Her pale skin looked lustrous, almost translucent. She looked like an angel.

And in that moment I wanted nothing more than to fucking violate her. Seriously the shit running through my heads, yes both of them..fuck knows which was more in control at that point, could rewrite the Kama Sutra. My phone buzzing in my pocket broke me out of my twisted thoughts. Pulling it out, the fucking phone I mean, I tore my eyes away from the girl and opened the text from Jazz.

_*Dude, What does mushroom soup taste like? tbasap J*_

I couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped at this, I mean seriously that boys a fucking tool sometimes. But you gotta love him. I quickly texted back.

_*Mate, it tastes like mushrooms, and why the fuck did you need me to tbasap? E*_

Looking back up, the girl had shifted positions and was sitting all legs akimbo facing more towards me. And looking right at me. I threw her a ludicrously excited grin across the path and she blushed and smiled back before looking down at her book again. I couldn't take my eyes off the blood pulsing under the skin of her chest. That should not be turning me on, but it fucking is.

My phone vibrated in my hand again and I dragged my eyes away from the girl to read Jazz's reply.

*_coz there was f/all in the flat to eat other than fucking mushroom soup, so I made it but I don't like fucking mushrooms so I thought I better check it doesn't actually taste like mushrooms before I eat the shit but its all gone to fuck now if it actually tastes like fucking mushrooms :( J*_

Sniggering I quickly typed out a reply,

_*shit man that sucks. hang in there for 10mins til im home and you can eat your favourite footlong :P E*_

_*Fuck. You. and hurry up J*_

Putting my phone back in my pocket I pulled my guitar into my lap and plucked a few strings. It was all fucked up and out of tune even though those idiots in the store said it would be good to play straight away. I set about tuning the guitar and when I was done I looked back up in the girls direction hoping she would look my way again.

She completely ignored me. Gutted like a fucking fish, as Emmett would say. And then the fact I had actually made a fucking noise with my guitar in front of someone other than my parents and mates hit me. Hit me like a fucking brick wall, I didn't freak the fuck out like I usually did, and if anything I felt even more exultant. I knew it was only tuning a fucking guitar but it was a fucking major moment for me.

Some young preppy looking arse walked down the path towards us and slowed down looking at me all expectantly and disapproving like I was a performing monkey with rabies or something. I just ignored the assmuncher and barely resisted the urge to tell him to fuck off. He fucking drew his eyes off me like a chick and kept walking as I flipped him off behind his back. I looked back towards the girl in front though when I heard her let out a melodic and divine giggle. But she was already looking back at her book. Gutted.

Cautiously I started to strum the strings of my guitar softly, barely audible to even my own ears and near impossible for the girl across to be able to hear it. And I felt fine, no fucking tension, numbness or panic.

I thrummed a little harder until the noise was more audible but still not enough that she would have heard it over her iPod. Still no panic.

Feeling fucking elated at that fact I gradually started to increase my pace and thrummed louder and harder. Still no panic.

I remember I could feel my heart beat picking up again but knew that time it was from pure euphoria. Guardedly I started to pluck certain strings out, playing an actual tune rather than just random strumming. Still no panic.

The wind picked up and swirled the leaves scattered on the ground and I looked across the path as the sun beat down on the girl across from me making the shimmer of her long brown hair captivate my attention as it bellowed out behind her in the gust,before floating eerily around her face as the wind disappeared again. I couldn't get over how beautiful she was and my eyes once again settled on her as I watched enthralled every minute movement she made. She remained with her head stuck studiously in her book not looking in my direction for a good few minutes before the sun dipped back behind the clouds again and a dull air was cast over the park. Another gust of wind blew down the path and I watched with rapture as she shivered and then rubbed one of her hands on her upper arm in an attempt to warm herself..

That's when I become aware of the fact I was playing the opening chords to _Coldplay's _song_ 'Shiver'_. Yep, I'll admit it I like Coldplay, deal with it. I also like Captain Beefheart and Frank Zappa but no ones ever slagged the shit out of me for that. I stopped playing as soon as I became aware of the fact I was and tried to mentally prepare myself for the onslaught of terror I'd came to associate with playing in front of someone that wasn't family. Still no panic.

I moved my fingers gently over the strings again as I played the opening chords a few times experimentally and grinned like a motherfucker when the feelings of anxiety refrained from surfacing. The girl still wasn't paying any attention to me and I took a huge fucking risk and launched into the song praying I wouldn't fall apart.

_"So I look in your direction  
But you pay me no attention, do you?  
I know you don't listen to me  
'Cause you say you see straight through me, don't you?_

_But on and on  
__From the moment I wake, to the moment I sleep  
I'll be there by your side; just you try and stop me  
I'll be waitin' in line, just to see if you care_

It was at this point I noticed an old couple with linked arms hunched over and frail drifting across the path in front of me. Trepidation grabbed me momentarily but somehow it didn't overwhelm me and I kept playing without missing a single note. I felt fucking all conquering and shit as I actually watched them walking away my eyes focused on their joint shape until they rounded the corner at the end of the path.

_Oh…  
Did you want me to change?  
But I'd change for good  
And I want you to know that you'll always get your way  
I wanted to say…__Don't you shiver  
Shiver  
Sing it loud and clear  
I'll always be waiting for you"_

I finished the song without a single fucking blip and let out a crazy loud and ecstatic chuckle as I knocked a rhythm out on the body of my guitar in excitement. I couldn't fucking believe what had just happened. I had played and sang in front of complete and utter strangers without even breaking a fucking sweat never mind losing it.

I eventually turned back around feeling fucking euphoric and observed with an immeasurable amount of satisfaction that the girl across from me was staring right at me. Her huge sparkling brown eyes and her jaw slightly slack as she held one of her earphones out of her ear.

I grinned even wider at her, watching as she broke free from my gaze and flushed scarlet once more. She popped the earphone back in before putting her book in her bag and swinging it over her shoulder.

Realising that meant she was leaving the feeling of satisfaction from earlier quickly turned to disappointment. Fuck I didn't want her to leave yet. There was all kinds of other fuckery I wanted her to do and leaving definitely wasn't one of them. I remember becoming consumed with the need to know if what had just happened was some kind of fluke or if it was a fucking miracle and I'd actually somehow got over my panicky shit.

I was broke out of those thoughts though as I watched her greedily while she stood up and smoothed down the fabric of her dress, her hands running down her thighs before she had stretched up on her toes raising her hands above her head arching her back and pushing her tits in my direction.

All I could think was ,fuck me.

I remember her abruptly glancing in my direction her face once again glowing red and I started panicking thinking I'd said that shit out loud. She cast me an innocent smile though and started walking down the path, so I figured I hadn't or if I had she fucking wanted to.. And then before I was aware of what I was doing I had started fingering the chords of another song and singing for her..again.

_"Baby, please don't go_

_Baby, please don't go_

_Baby, please don't go_

_Down to New Orleans_

_You know I love you so_

_Baby Please don't go"_

Thinking back I must have really sounded like shit, with only one measly acoustic trying to sound like Van Morrison, but all I could focus on at the time was my hope that she couldn't hear the desperation in my voice. I needed to know if it was a one off, if I was going to break apart if I tried to play in front of anyone else, but predominantly above all else, all the shit running through my head I just wanted her to stay. I carried on playing relentlessly and watched as her walking pace slowed down until she was practically baby stepping her way down the path while her hand tapped her hip in time with the guitar.

And then just like in those crappy fucking romantic movie's you see, all in slow motion and shit, she glanced back at me over her shoulder her hair flickering and glittering once again in the sun and smiled wide showing off all her perfect little teeth. Which in turn caused me to break out into what was possibly the most unattractive shit eating grin in the world. I'm pretty sure I must have looked like that wee blue fucking crazy frog..

And let me tell you grinning and singing at the same time ain't no easy fucking feat. She turned back around and kept walking away as I carried on playing until she was out of my sight..and grinning like no ones fucking business. I was like one of those trauma victims, in complete and utter shock, I just couldn't believe I had fucking played in front of people.

After she left I stayed in that exact spot on the bench in a stupor for god knows how fucking long before I picked the guitar back up and started playing again. Just complete and utter happy ass songs. I marginally managed to stop myself from following behind a group of drunks who joined in singing Peter Gabriel's 'Solsbury Hill' with me. I was fucking back in the game. I must have played for hours, even after my throat had became desiccated and it was impossible for me to sing another word, I stayed rooted to the spot just playing the guitar for anyone and everyone who walked past me until my fingers were blistered to fuck and the pain stopped me.

When I finally calmed down a bit from the fucking feelings of victory running through my head it was getting dark and starting to rain again. I couldn't wait to tell Em and Jazz what had happened and practically run the whole way home, dodging in and out of all the people jamming up the streets. I may have recreated the Rocky Balboa running montage as I went punching the fucking air in rejoice, got people out my fucking way anyway. And that's when I started beating myself up.

Why the fuck didn't I go over and talk to her? And that one thought has been constantly running through my mind ever since then right up to this fucking moment.

Letting out a mammoth sigh I internally chew out myself for being such a fucking pussy. If I had just spoke to her that first time I saw her I wouldn't be sitting here now waiting for her to show up so I can sing yet another song specifically for her in my lame ass attempt to get her to realise I'm fucking mad about her.

I could sit here and pretend I only wanted to see her again so that I could thank her for somehow getting me over all my fuckery, And I'm pretty sure she'd think I was mental if I even attempted to explain how she'd helped me get over my stage fright or whatever the hell it was. But the real reason I wanted to see her again was a hell of a lot more decadent and can be summed up pretty nicely by the legend that is Ron Burgandy _"I wanna say something. I'm gonna put it out there, If you like it, you can take it, if you don't, send it right back. I want to be on you"_ Groaning again I run both hands through my hair and try and shift the fucking sordid images running through my head.

Anyway After that first time I promised myself the next time I saw her I would do it...however in order to see her again I had to stake out the fucking park waiting for her to make another appearance. That's if she would even make another appearance, she might have just been passing through or some shit and that thought alone made my chest constrict in some weird intense way I couldn't even begin to comprehend the reason behind.

But thankfully because I'm a smart fucker I took my new guitar along again and figured If shit back fired and she wasn't there or whatever I could just play some.

Thankfully on that Friday she showed again and I approached her all guns fucking blazing because that fucking weird feeling didn't cease until I saw her there again and it was seriously messing with me. My plan was to just go up and speak to her and not leave her alone until she agreed to let me take her out on a date.

But obviously that would have been too fucking easy... so the gods above intervened and as a result she was on her fucking phone when I arrived. I couldn't exactly just barge in and interrupt her conversation. So I sat down on the bench across from her once again and told myself I'd talk to her when she was finished her call.

Only when she finally finished and hung up her phone she looked so fucking unhappy and I'm pretty sure there were tears staining her cheeks. And that shit made my chest all fucking achy-breaky again and I really didn't think she'd be in the mood for some scum bug to just come up and hit on her.

So instead I pulled my guitar onto my lap and sang _Bob Marley's 'Three little Birds'_. Which thank fuck removed the scowl from her face and raised a small but blithe smile, which in return eased the odd pressure in my chest.

But I could tell there was still something distressing her and new it just wasn't the right time to approach her. Instead I sang the fucking happiest twatiest songs I could think of just to make her smile and try and forget about whatever was worrying her.

By the third time I saw her I realised Id just freak her the hell out out if I attempted to chat her up. She obviously came to this secluded part of the park to be just that, secluded. And fuck if I wanted to be the wanker that freaked her out and scared her away from her place of solace, plus I wouldn't get to see her any more if she fucking turned me down. I really do sound like a mother-fucking girl.

So I decided to leave the ball in her court, you know, let her talk to me if she wants to, although she's probably completely unaware of said ball in her court. Shit, I need to stop thinking about my balls in her court...

And thus my brilliant plan of conveying my feelings to her through music was born. But only other peoples music, I mean she has inspired me to write some more of my own stuff. But if I were to play it and she were to by some fucking miracle talk to me and ask about it I knew I wouldn't be able to keep that shit from her. There's no way I could lie to her, she's just too fucking adorable and innocent.

And so far my plan is sucking ass.

Checking the time again I see its after 10am now. Feeling defeated I resign myself to the fact that she's a definite no show today. She's never missed a day before. An irrational surge of worry takes over me and I start freaking the fuck out at all the possible reasons as to why she's not here. She could have been mugged on the way here, in an accident, in hospital, at home ill, moved out of the fucking country for all I know or worse at home with her boyfriend... I so fucking don't want to think about that possibility.

Growling at the thought I yank at the roots of my hair again and drag my nails down my face before laughing at how much of a fucking emo wanker she's turned me into.

Seriously this shits fucked up. It's like she's possessed me. I'm fucking pussy-whipped by a girl whose name I don't even fucking know, and this shits gotta change I cant stay like this. I need to just grow a set and make a move. Write her a fucking note like you used to do when you were a snotty little kid and stick it to her bench, or something equally as pussy assed as that.

The rain picks up and gradually gets heavier, why is it always fucking raining? I watch down the path as the tiny raindrops twinkle and come to life in the sun as they drip down from the trees above. Gently strumming the guitar I start to sing _'The Rain Song', by Led Zeppelin_. I never realised before just how fucking fitting this song is to this whole clusterfuck of a situation.

_It is the springtime of my loving- the second season I am to know,_

_You are the sunlight in my growing- so little warmth I've felt before._

_It isn't hard to feel me glowing – I watched the fire that grew so low._

_It is the summer of my smiles – flee from me Keepers of the Gloom._

_Speak to me only with your eyes, it is to you I give this tune,_

_Ain't so hard to recognize – these things are clear to all from time to time_

I keep playing but slouch down in my seat feeling defeated as I look across at Park Girls empty bench before lowering my eyes to the ground. I really am pathetic over this girl.

Hearing a light scuffling I look down the path towards the commotion feeling my face light up in a huge beam as I see Park Girl making her way towards her bench. I think I may have momentarily stopped playing at the sight of her, she looks fucking gorgeous as usual wearing a short flowery dress, leather jacket and her usual old scruffy chucks. Her hair all fluffy and bouncing away in the light breeze.

Finding my voice again I pick up singing and watch entranced as she removes her iPod, wipes down her seat with her sleeve and takes up her usual spot on her bench all cross legged. Tearing my eyes away from the pale yet flawless skin of her bare legs I look up and catch her deep hazel brown eyes staring across at me.

This is unusual for her.. and me, fuck, I'm usually free to perv over her the whole time she's there unless she's wearing those stupid sun glasses she thinks I cant see her eyes through. Only when she's wearing those things does she dare look at me and I'm pretty sure that's because she thinks I cant see her checking me out through them. Any other time she does everything possible to avoid making real eye contact.

Breaking out into a grin again I finish the song keeping my eyes locked on hers not wanting to break the connection. I watch with amusement as her eyes go from being all wide and startled looking to teeny and inquisitive with her brow all furrowed up. She looks so god damn sweet I cant help but chuckle at her. I instantly wish I hadn't when she shatters the connection and looks down into her lap.

It doesn't hide the fact her cheeks are flaring up all rubicund from me though. I try not to laugh at how mother fucking cute she is again but fail and end up chortling like a complete tit wank.

She pulls out her book and her Pepe le Pew lunch box from her bag. You know that Looney Tune character, the little French skunk that strolls around Paris searching for "l'amour" and cant take 'no' for a fucking answer. And is blissfully convinced that the girl he's trailing is flirting with him, even when she physically beats the shit out him... Fuck I hope this isn't some kind of fucked up sign.

Thinking about my resolution from earlier to grow some balls and just talk to her I contemplate just coming out with it and shouting hi or something across to her at least, but yet again she's got her head in her book and I'd feel like a fuckwit interrupting her. Plus I'd feel like a complete assclown, I wouldn't have a fucking clue what to say past 'Hi' and the probability of me quoting Ron Burgandy and telling her I want to be on her is pretty fucking high...

Friday. I'll do it on Friday, give myself a few days to man up and come up with something better to say. I'll get Emmett and Jazz to help me, god knows they've been on my back about growing some pubes and talking to her since the first time I told them about her.

With my newly solidified resolution in place I sit for a bit captivated by the exquisite girl in front of me. She's so completely dazzling and out of my league. I don't even know if she's interested in me in anyway, its not as if she ever acknowledges I'm here..

Groaning again I think back to earlier, maybe the leaving a note on her bench and watching from behind the fucking Rose bushes again for her reaction might be a better idea.

Shifting my guitar slightly in my lap to get more comfortable the chords of a song from a band I'd seen playing last summer when I was in Ireland on vacation float into my mind. Fucking fitting song as well. Needing a sign as to whether or not she's even paying attention to a word I sing for her, never mind the reason why I'm singing for her, an idea comes to mind. Hesitating briefly, I tap my fingers on the guitar neck, fuck it.. I may as well just go for it, I can always kid on I got the words mixed up or some shit. Coughing softly I clear my throat and start to play before I fucking chicken out like usual.

_'I broke into your house last night  
And left a note at your bedside  
I'm far too shy to speak to you at school  
You leave me numb and I'm not sure why  
__I find it easier to sit and stare  
Than push my limbs out towards you right there  
My heart is bursting in your perfect eyes  
As brown as almonds and as pure as skies'_

I slow down my strumming and wait for her reaction. Did she notice ? I mean she might not even know the song...but she was sort of swaying when I first started playing as if she recognised it. This was the new step in my plan of getting her to realise I was here playing for her. Thinking I'm a smart mofo I changed the lyrics from blue eyes to brown. Not so smart really... I mean no disrespect to the original lyrics because I fucking love them, but Park girl has brown eyes, and it fits. Although "As brown as Almonds and as pure as skies" does sound shit but give me a fucking break I had a whole 8 seconds to come up with it. Plus all that's fucking in my head is her, I'm lucky I still have the ability to form words never mind fucking sing and try and improvise lyrics

I pause playing completely and look up to meet her gaze. She is looking at me, which I'm gonna take as a good sign, she's at least listening. But I cant fucking fathom the expression on her face she looks all confused. Maybe she does get it ? Or more likely she's wondering why I quit playing just moments into a song. So I quickly pick up where I left off and finish playing the song feeling a bit crestfallen.

Resting back against the bench feeling defeated once again I watch her as she takes her breakfast out of her tin. She pulls out a tin-foiled package and unravels it and I can see its a fuckoff pile of pancakes and a banana. A fucking banana, there's no way I'm gonna be able to sit through watching her eat that fucking thing.

The rain picks up a bit more gusto but its still not really heavy enough to bother me yet only the occasional droplet makes its way through the canopy above. That's when the next song I'm gonna play comes to mind and I really hope its not too fucking obvious and freaks her the hell out but I'll give it ago. Repositioning my guitar again I start to sing.

_Can't you see that it's just rainin' _

_There ain't no need to go outside _

_But baby, you hardly even notice _

_When I try to show you this song _

_It's meant to keep you _

_From doin' what you're supposed to_

_Like wakin' up too early _

_Maybe we could sleep in _

_I'll make you banana pancakes_

_Pretend like it's the weekend now _

As soon as I started playing her head flew up in my direction and she met my gaze her body completely frozen with her pancakes in one hand and her banana in the other.

This gave me a fucktonne of hope, does she get that I'm singing for her? I mean I know I'm being pretty furtive here. But if I really think about... why is she out eating her breakfast in the rain ? there really is no need to be outside. She could catch a fucking cold or some shit in this weather, oh for fuck sake, I sound like my fucking Mom now.

Park Girl just keeps on staring at me all befuddled and petrified looking. The fucktonne of hope from mere seconds ago quickly starts to disintegrate when I think about the other possible reasons she's looking at me like I'm pointing a fucking loaded gun at her, maybe that's not the best analogy here... it could be because she's freaked out that I'm staring at her and singing about wanting to make her fucking banana pancakes. Or the fact I look at her enough to know that's what she's even eating. Fuck.

Shaking my head to try and clear it of these shitty negative thoughts I slowly return my eyes to hers and resume playing.

_And we could pretend it all the time _

_Can't you see that it's just rainin' _

_There ain't no need to go outside_

_Unintentionally I pause again as I take in the fact she's still looking at me. She always looks away. That's either a good or very very bad sign.._

_But just maybe, like an ukulele _

_Mama made a baby _

_I really don't mind to practice _

_Because you're my little lady_

I didn't mean to pause here but thoughts of Park Girl as my little lady flooded my mind, her in my apartment all baking cakes and shit in nothing but some flowery retro apron. Yes fucking please and thank you.

_Lady, lady love me_

_Because I love to lay here lazy _

_We could close the curtains _

_Pretend like there's no world outside_

_And we could pretend that all the time_

Finishing the song off I watch her as she slowly finishes eating. I had to look away when she ate the banana, fuck knows what I would have done if I watched her little lips straining around that thing. When the coasts clear though I look back and watch spellbound again as she gets herself comfy and pulls her book closer into her body.

The sun is shining higher in the sky now and she dives into her bag pulling out her stupid sunglasses. I suppress a snicker as her eyes immediately flash up to meet mine through the lenses of her sunglasses. Even if I wasn't watching her I'd know she was looking at me. I've got some like sick spidy sense or something and I can just feel it in my bones.

I stare straight back at her and try and put as much into the connection as I can to make her realise I can fucking see her looking right at me. And that's when it happens. It wouldn't seem like anything huge or monumental to an outsider, but to me its fucking something and that fucktonne of hope starts to regenerate itself.

I watch stunned as she slowly raises her hand and runs her fingers softly through her hair from top to bottom and in a pure and girlish way twisting it through her fingers before fiddling with the ends. No big deal you think, but the whole time she was covetingly staring straight into my eyes.

Now I'm no expert on the behaviour of girls, but fuck me, I've had enough girls up on me to know that's definitely some shit they learn in flirting 101 classes.

I watch enthralled as she slowly licks along her bottom then top lip before sucking both into her mouth and releasing them softly leaving them glistening and tantalizing in the morning sun. I watch enchanted as she does that fuckery again and try to burn the image into my brain; lick, suck, release. And then in case I wasn't about to blow my fucking load like a horny 17 year old, she adds in a gentle nibble on her lower lip to finish it off. And fucking me. There's a certain part of my anatomy I'd sure as shit love to see that process repeated on. I literally have to close my eyes at the onslaught of images appearing in my head.

When I eventually gain some composure and open my eyes again looking back across at her it doesn't take me long to see the small kind of victory smile creeping at the edge of her lips. She's totally doing this shit on purpose, and honestly I'm fucking loving it. I plead her with my eyes to continue her little performance and does she fuck deliver.

Swiping her hair slowly over her shoulder I watch as she scratches along her collar bone roughly enough to bring the blood to the surface before slowly retracing her path with gently caressing finger tips. I swallow hard, really fucking hard. I cant take much more of this before I resort to doing something that will land me in a jail cell, especially when my similarity in personality traits to one Mark Chapman is discovered.

Somehow I manage to resist the urge to fling myself across the path and onto her by grabbing onto my guitar. I watch with amusement as her eyes flicker wider before they zero in on my fingers wrapped around the neck of the guitar. Interesting. Watching her face closely in indulgence I grip my fist tighter around the neck before sliding it suggestively up and then down some of the length of the neck and smirk at her reaction as she squirms and folds her legs tighter together. Fuck.

She snaps out of it when my hand stills and looks up to meet my eyes. She blushes the most alluringly deep red I've ever seen as I cock my eyebrow at her and send a salute her way. Which I immediately cringe at when I remember exactly where I'd seen that shit move. It was in a cheap porno where some guy with a pathetic English accent was saluted with a "Good show! Old boy !" after fucking some blonde on a pool table.

I'm pacified though when she smirks and sends a salute back my way making me practically burst with excitement as I grin even wider. See this is progress. Fucking progress.

I've still yet to utter a single word to her, well unless you count the singing because in that case I've been speaking to her for months now... But its a step in the right direction.

Unfortunately that seems to be the only progress that's going to be made today as she once again returns to her book. And I start playing a David Gray song that always reminds me of her and just fucking fits right now.

_From the very first moment I saw you  
That's when I knew  
All the dreams I held in my heart  
Had suddenly come true  
Knock me over stone cold sober  
Not a thing I could say or do  
'Cos baby when I'm walking with you now  
My eyes are so wide  
Like you reached right into my head  
And turned on the light inside  
Turning on the light  
Inside my mind hey _

_Come on baby it's all right  
__Sunday Monday day or night  
Written blue on white it's plain to see  
Be mine, be mine  
That rainy shiny night or day  
What's the difference anyway  
Honey till your heart belongs to me _

As usual I spend the whole time I'm playing watching her face and can't help but smile at how adorable she is as she starts to mouth the words to the song while I sing them. And then she starts singing them out loud, she's quiet at first and I can just make out the sweet melodic sound as she sings along.

_If I had some influence girl  
With the powers that be _

_I'd have them fire that arrow at you  
Like they fired it right at me  
And maybe when your heart and soul are burning  
You might see  
That every time I'm talking with you  
It's always over too soon  
That everyday feels so incomplete  
Till you walk into the room  
Say the word now girl I'll jump that moon hey_

By this point in the song she's pretty much singing at the same volume as me, although I have lowered my voice so I can hear her clearer but that's not the point. She's just too god damn cute and there was fuckall I could do to stop the laugh that broke free from my chest. Her head swipes up in my direction again and she looks at me quizzically taking in my slow spreading grin and hands which are still strumming out the song. She looks back down to her book and I completely stop singing and just grin goofily at her as she sings along alone to my guitar. It sounds amazing, I mean she's not the best singer but her dulcet feminine tone just sounds exquisite with my guitar. It just sounds right..

_Come on baby it's ok  
Rainy shiny night or day  
There's nothing in the way now  
Don't you see  
Be mine, be mine_

And then I think she must realise she's been singing along this whole time and the look on her face goes from confused to down right petrified. It only takes her seconds before she jumps off the bench and starts practically sprinting back down the path that will lead her out of the park.

That familiar sore spot starts hankering deep in my chest again and panic rises within me. I hastily stop playing _'Be mine'_ and start the song I always play when she's leaving.

Although today it comes out sounding somewhat even more desperate than normal and I don't even attempt to hide the longing in my voice. I always sing this song to her in some pathetic plea to get her to stay long enough for me to grow balls enough to talk to her. Quickly I launch into my version of _Van Morrison's 'Baby please don't go'_

'Baby,please don't go

Baby, please don't go'

I watch crushed after her as she continues running down the path without slowing down like she usually does. If anything she speeds up. Shit, that's not good.

I stop playing the song when she rounds the corner and is completely out of my sight. There isn't anyone else around to hear me play anyway. Pulling my guitar off my lap and sitting it aside on the bench next to me I pull my hair frustrated about what just happened and let out a loud sigh. I really am pathetic I miss her already. How you can miss someone you don't even know I have no idea, but somehow I manage it.

Sighing again I stand up and fling my guitar over my shoulder and make my way down the same path Park Girl has just bolted down and towards home. Thank fuck Emmett and Jazz are at some game, I cant face having to telling them yet again I chickened out and said jack shit to her.

Kicking the soppy leaves stuck to the path as I walk along I can't help but grin though thinking about what happened this morning. I know she fucking listens to me now, and Christ on a fucking crutch, she was sure as hell flirting with me... Feeling that fucktonne of hope exponentially expanding in my chest and taking over my body I smile wider and start to think up ways of going about officially introducing myself to her which don't involve saying a pathetic 'Hi' or quoting Anchorman to her in any shape or form.

* * *

**A/N**

Next chapter will be EPOV again, and Jazz and Emmett shall make their grand appearance, yay.. then you'l have the whole gang ! well minus the parentals but their time shall come :P

Not sure exactly when next Chapter will be up but I'm thinking its going to be at least 2 weeks until I can post again, stupid uni exams are whooping my ass this month :(

Any questions, querys, comments, observations, musings, song recomendations etc or even abuse you want to send my way feel free to PM me or even better see that wee box just a couple of centimetres down the way *points to review button* hit it up and leave me a **REVIEW !!**

(If you do I might let Guitar Guy out of my closet to serenade you your favouritist song :P)


	4. Chapter 4

Hey folks :D

Exams are over, woop woop !! Just have to focus on writing up my thesis now :/ :/ I'm planning on updating this here fic weekly from now on probably at the weekend when I have the most free time so probably each Sunday * cough Sin-day *

Can I say a colossal thanks to anyone reading my little story, adding it to their story alerts, favourites,and those reviewing and saying fuckawsome nice things, makes me a happy happy :)

Disclaimer: I still own fuck all, Robs crotch owns me. Robs crotch dipped in Jack Daniels No.7 Barbecue sauce is what heavens made of. I dont know how the whole beta thing works so I don't have one, so sorry in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes or just general shityness. I still dont own Anchorman either, (although I will shamelessly continue to steal quotes from it), I dont own any of the music listed below either or Erica Jong, she aint mine. I dodnt own The Dude or The Big Lebowski either, I do have a copy of the soundtrack which is fuckawsome. And half the shit I make Em and Jazz say are quotes from my guy friends. Namely my "special" man friend Mr.P he knows who he is...named and shamed bitch, named and shamed :P

Songs featured in Chapter 4

Will Ferrell and The Channel 4News Team- Afternoon Delight

http://www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=eplbDbp6XJQ

Henryck Gorecki, Symphony No.3: Lento e Largo – Tranquilissimio, performed by David Zinman, Dawn Upshaw and London Sinfionetta

http://www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=ymuF7uG6wis

* * *

I felt like something was missing in the last Chapter but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.. anyway I'm reasonably happy with this Chapter (although its shorter than I originally planned but it seemed like the logical place to cut it off) so without further ado, I give you...

**Chapter 4-'I reckon I could eat a chicken nugget every 15 minutes for the rest of my life'**

**EPOV **

"Fuck off .." I mumble whilst trying to inject as much venom into my sleepy voice as possible. I lamely swat whoever the fucks pinging my nose's hand away and sluggishly turn over on the sofa hiding my face in the crook of my elbow to avoid the attack.

It doesn't work. The relentless assault commences on my ears this time and it hurts like a motherfucking bitch. Growling into my arm I shake my head in an attempt to escape the perpetrator which only results in adding even more fuel to their attack.

"What part of fuck off don't you get..." I grumble frustratedly as I shimmy around until I'm laying with my back on the sofa. I scrub my hands over my face a few times and dig my fingers into my eyes forcefully rubbing the sleep away before prying them open and looking up to see the ever-present jovial smile and bouncing blue eyes of one Jasper Whitlock.

"Nice to see you too Eddie boy" Jasper drawls as he stoops further over the back of the sofa and musses up my hair. At least he's stopped with the fucking pinging now.

" Sorry to wake you up sleeping beauty.." The haughty grin plastered on his face states otherwise.

" ..but you gotta move your ass so I can get my tush on that there sofa and eat all this fooood..."

He grins even wider as he spreads his hands out gesturing to the coffee table next to me. Following his gaze I laugh as he motions to the shitload of fast-food he's got lined up across the table.

Unsurprisingly, in the centre of the feast there's a plate with a mountain of chicken nuggets nestled upon it. Just waiting for Jazz to abuse it with his favoured condiment, good old Jack Daniels No.7 Barbecue sauce. Jazz leers at the plate in an entirely unnatural way for any man to be looking at a food that's primarily made of chicken skin, water and pulped carcasses.

"I reckon I could eat a chicken Nugget every 15 minutes for the rest of my life." Jasper mumbles as he stares at the plate dotingly whilst making his way around the sofa.

Snickering I haul myself into a sitting position and swing my legs off the sofa to make room for Jazz to sit down. I cant help but smile as he pushes a pile of my favourite barbecue chicken hot wings along the table towards me before passing me the Jack Daniels sauce.

"Ah! That's the face I was looking for"

He laughs as he bumps my shoulder with his before shovelling some nuggets into his mouth and spluttering out between bites,

"what's up... with,... you anyway?"

He looks questioningly at me before swallowing the chicken shit that's in his mouth and reaching for more. His face becomes clouded with apprehension and he pauses his attack on the mountain of nuggets with a handful half way to his open mouth to look at me again. His whole demeanor changes and he stares at me deadly serious for an insurmountable period of time.

"You can still play, right?"

I quickly nod my head in the affirmative to acquiesce him and watch as his posture drastically relaxes. Letting out a sigh I slouch back into the sofa with the plate of wings in hand and prop my feet up on the coffee table before answering him.

"Park Girl."

Its all the explanation he needs anyway.

"Ah, I see.." he replies in a sympathetic voice the trepidation in his eyes almost completely dissolved.

"I'm taking it you didn't speak to her then."

"Nope " I say popping the p and shaking my head before balancing the plate on the arm of the sofa and jumping up.

"Fancy a beer?" I offer as I head over to the kitchen stretching and cracking my back as I go to try and relax myself.

"As sure as shit I do..keeping the tradition alive I see.." Jazz replies with a glint in his eye.

Smirking back at him I head into the kitchen to get some beers out of the fridge. It became some sort of fucked up tradition that whenever any of the three of us are feeling shit, no matter what the reason. We head out to the nearest pub and drown our sorrows with a few beers, and if we're feeling extra shitty a few shots of Jack D get frown in too.

Its not like we're alcoholics or anything, I mean we only have a couple most of the time and its more about the company and being able to vent what's bugging us to the others than about the actual drink.

But fuck if I'm gonna start talking to Emmett about my feelings and shit without getting him fully inebriated beforehand.. he already thinks I'm lacking in the dick department over the whole Park girl fiasco I don't want to reinforce it. At least if drinks involved I've got a scapegoat for my emo fuckery.

I pop the beers open and head back into the living room.

"Tradition brings us all together and makes us feel close .. "

I tease back in a saccharine tone trying to sound like Esme. I don't know how many times I've heard her say that in my life... seriously. Tradition for some reason means a shitload to Esme. Her favourite tradition is one she lovingly made up her self and likes to call 'Our Day', and it really is as gay as it sounds.

It falls on the 11th of July each year, which just so happens to be in like a fortnight...fuck this years flying by. The point of 'Our day'? well its to celebrate the day my adoption, and in Esme's eyes 'The Cullen Family', became official.

Every year we spend 'Our Day' in the bowling alley. Every fucking year without fail. It was my favourite thing to do as a kid and since I was always allowed to choose how we spent the day it was unavoidable that we would end up prancing about with our feet in a pair of shoes 20 million other people have worn. After about 5 years Esme stopped asking what I wanted to do and it just became tradition that we would spend the day amid arcade games and greasy fries to bowl a few games.

I actually fucking loved it especially when I got older and Emmett and Jazz became a big part of my life and ultimately were dragged by Esme into the celebrations as well. It just seems to get better each year as well, especially now a few beers are involved and we get to take bets on how long it will be before Carlisle inevitably starts quoting The Big Lebowski.

Jazz the cheating fucker won last year, 6 beers (4 of which Jazz supplied him with) in 1 hour 25 minutes and Carlisle was shouting,_"Smokey, this is not Nam'. This is bowling. There are rules!!"_ ,in his best Walter impersonation at the top of his lungs in the middle of the bowling lane. Fuck knows why he hasn't been banned yet.

Handing Jazz his beer I slouch back down onto the sofa smiling at the memories before Jazz brings me out of my reminiscing

"That's not the tradition... its the Jack Daniels.."

He beams and takes a long pull from his beer before continuing,

"Anyway we've to meet Em at 'Dirty Dicks' at 8, so don't worry tradition shall be upheld!"

He shouts as he punches his fist into the air. Why he felt the need to I don't know, but that's just how Jazz rolls.

"And you can spill the beans.." he looks at me pointedly.

"Looking forward to it.. " I grumble back.

He just chuckles at me before his face lights up in a stupid-ass expression and he springs up off the sofa, pointing at me.

_"I'm gonna punch you in the ovary, that's what I'm gonna do. A straight shot. Right to the baby maker!!"_

He shouts before flinging himself over the coffee table towards the flat screen, knocking a bowl of fries over sending them scattering across the table in his haste to search for our much abused copy of Anchorman.

I groan internally because watching Anchorman right now is not really gonna help me with the whole trying not to quote it to Park Girl when I eventually talk to her. Although ..."_I don't normally do this, but I felt compelled to tell you something. You have an absolutely breathtaking....heiney. I mean, that things good. I wanna be friends with it."_ does sound pretty accurate..

Jazz finally finds the DVD and holds it up in the air in some euphoric gesture before starting the film up and launching himself back onto the sofa.

We watch the film and finish a few more beers off in quick succession, just about pissing ourselves laughing at this little slice of comedy genius before trying to get our shit together to head out to meet Emmett. Our attempt at getting our shit together ends up being a total fail as Jazz falls over the door jamb whilst doing a little, well a lot, of drunk guy dancing as he croons out a craptastic version of "Afternoon Delight".

* * *

"I'd totally hit that."

Emmett practically shouts across the table to us as he points his beer bottle in the direction of some red head posing at the bar. Looking back towards Em I snort into my bottle as he nods his head, winking and waggling his eyebrows.

"Dude...Id hit that so hard whoever could pull me out, would become the King of England!"

He continues in his vociferous drunken slur, his eyebrows waggling at rapid speed making him look like some ridiculous cartoon character and ending in me spluttering beer all down my chin as I snort at him and watch Jazz chortling away bouncing about on his barstool.

Suddenly Jazz bangs his bottle onto the table to demand our attention and looks between Em and myself blinking slowly and smirking lazily. Finally focusing his attention in my direction he leans over the table, sounding completely sozzled and ridiculously Texan, and just about manages to ask,

"Sooo, Edwardo", he hiccups," what's the..plan for Friday ?"

I watch in wonder as his face contorts in what looks like pain while he squirms around precariously perched on top of his stool. After what seems like forever he straightens up and sets free a ridiculously long ,and worryingly moist sounding, belch and smiles all shit happy as if he's won a medal or something. Perhaps I should cut his alcohol supply off pretty damn soon..

When we first got to Dirty Dicks Em was sitting at a table beaming with an absurdly long row of JD shots lined up waiting for us, I'm guessing Jazz had already told him about my pissy mood. I flung a couple back before even sitting down and launched into explaining the clusterfuck that was this morning.

Trying to maintain my cool, and hide behind my completely factitious "though art better than you, and can hold my drink" mask, I slur back,

"Fuck knows man, I'm just gonna walk up to her.."

"That's a start...that's, that's a good fucking start "

Jazz babbles back at me nodding his head seriously, I really should cut him off sooner rather than later... Rolling my eyes at him I carry on.

"m'not gonna take the guitar, cos I'll just shit out and end up fucking serenading her like usual."

I grimace, "I just hope that doesn't mean I'm gonna start singing all fucking a capella or something..."

"You better fucking do it man." Emmett shouts across the table in a warning tone, turning his beer bottle in my direction he continues,

"You need to suck the giant cock of life... and make it your own. You'll come out a better woman for it"

What.

The.

Fuck...

I stare wide eyed, dumbfounded and slack jawed at him as he sits smirking smugly and quaintly sipping his beer as if he's just bestowed the best piece of advice in the world upon me.

The carfuffle and sound of hysterical cackling and banging from the floor registers somewhere in my mind and makes me aware that Jazz is no longer precariously perched upon his stool but is now in fact face planted on the floor.

Checking to make sure he hasn't bust his nose open or some other fuckery I peek under the table to see him gracelessly splayed across the floor "hooterin' and a hollerin'" as he would say.

"What the fuck! what are you talking about..Emmett? what kind of fucked up advice is that?" I ask him genuinely perplexed by his outburst.

" Shit! no... that doesn't make sense here does it?"

I don't want to know when that fuckery ever makes sense, though I'm pretty sure its got something to do with his cock being the aforementioned "cock of life"..

He scratches his head deep in thought and rubs across his chin before smiling lopsidedly, crossing his arms across his chest and countering,

"What about ..' Advice is what we ask for when we already know the answer but wish we didn't' ?"

Wait a minute I'm pretty sure that's an Erica Jong quote. Erica Jong the writer and feminist.. wonder what she'd make of the " suck the cock of life" advice..

"Arsehole". I smirk back at him because the fuckers right. I know what I need to do, I just don't want to do it, well I do but I don't. Fuck, shits not making sense any more, think I should cut myself off pretty soon too...

"Plus if you don't"

He takes a slurp from his bottle spilling some down his shirt,

"Me and Jazz here.."

He reaches down and pulls a still snickering and hiccuping Jazz up from the floor with one huge hand.

"..we're gonna gate crash your little Rendezvous spot and tell her all about you Aqualung.. "

He teases as he points his bottle in my direction once again and eyes me gravely to let me know he really isn't kidding.

Jazz finally recovers himself and takes a swig from his bottle, which miraculously he's managed to avoid smashing or even spilling any beer from. Fucker, I always spill mine when I face plant. He loudly clears his throat in an extremely dramatic "Ahem mmm!!" before raising his bottle to join Emmett's which is now hovering dangerously close to my face and making a toast.

"To Friday!..Friday, and finally meeting the infamous Park Girl!".

Laughing I raise my bottle to join there's and clink them together to seal the deal. As I raise the bottle to touch my lips Em's deafening voice booms into my ear,

"Down it or your gay motherfuckfucker!!"

Balls. Another tradition, not that there's fuck all wrong with being gay but well.. you know, need to gain man points here. I comply to tradition like usual and down the beer in one whilst Jazz bangs his bottle on the table in time with his chants of "Friday, Friday, Friday..!".

Slamming the empty bottle onto the table I swipe the back of my hand across my mouth and grin in victory, while Em pats my back like I've been a good boy. He pushes another shot towards me and picks up his own from the table, and speaks assertively,

"Seriously man.. to Friday..".

Fuck I think I'm gonna regret this. Before I can confiscate Jazz's shot, because fuck if I want to be cleaning his chicken nuggety puke up, he moves with more speed than I thought was possible in his sloshed state grabbing the glass and raising it in the air and toasting again,

"To Fridaaayyy!".

For some reason my mind trudges up some of the basic Latin I learned whilst at Columbia University. All that useless shit they make you learn for no apparent reason, because this sure as hell didn't get me my degree. The origin of the days of the week, who needs to know that? Seriously.. Friday comes from the Latin '_dies veneris'_', which translates as 'Day of Venus', the planet dedicated to the goddess of love, the Greek Aphrodite, or '_Aphrodites hemera' _if you like.

That's got to be a good sign for Friday, right?.

* * *

Thursday I wake up with a start, sitting straight up on what I think is my bed, well its soft anyway, with the unmistakable heat of another persons body pressing into my legs. Shit..

Manning up and preparing myself for the worst case scenario, I crack one bleary eye open wide enough to take in a head of blonde frizz which thank fuck I recognize as belonging to Jazz.

I groan out loud in protest to the sheer amount of Jack Daniels I can practically feel splashing back and forth in my head making me feel sea-sick. Bad fucking idea. It just makes the splashing turn into a pulsing fucking Tsunami. It feels like my brain's been fucked by a Rhino or someshit, fuck that' visuals making me feel sick..I need more sleep.

* * *

I wake again, with the weight and heat of Jazz's body tossing about across my feet this time. Yawning I stretch my arms out and hit something wooden sending a soft chime out into the silence of the room.

Looks like I've been spooning with my guitar again... sad times. I know.

Pulling the guitar out from its place of rest wedged between my side and the back of the sofa I survey the room to see just how much damage we managed to inflict upon the apartment in the black-out that happened last night.

Jazz is passed out across my feet at the opposite end of the sofa spread eagle with a maraca sticking out the top of his trousers....because that's normal.

And Emmett's to the left of me in the love-seat curled up in the foetal position looking absolutely fucking ridiculous.

The man's a fucking machine I'm telling you, he's 6'4 which isn't intimidating if your a relatively tall guy I mean I'm 6'1 and jazz is just under 6'. The thing that's scary about Emmett is how much meat and muscle he has on his enormous frame.

He's not quite Arnold Schwarzenegger, but I've never met anyone stupid enough to mess with him. And the funny thing is he wouldn't hurt a fly in a food fight.

Seriously..he's genuinely one of the nicest people I know. The crudest mouth I've ever heard, probably where I picked up my 'potty' mouth as Esme says. But he's just like a big kid really with his brown eyes, curly hair and mischievous dimples.

I barely suppress the snort that builds up in my chest as Em grumbles incoherently and snuggles further into the pillow he's wrapped himself around.

And then there's Jazz.. who's now snoring lightly as he sprawls himself even more over my legs. I love that boy to bits too. He's just Jazz. There's no way you can really describe him that will do him any real justice. He's full of life and laughter and everyone immediately falls in love with his Southern boy charm.

He starts stirring in his sleep and making babbling noises that progress to an almost caw like sound as if he's impersonating a bird.

Laughing quietly I kick his ass to get him to shut the hell up, because I really don't want him to wake up Em, who from experience I've learnt doesn't deal well with hangovers until he's had enough sleep. Enough being when his body decides its time to haul ass.

He bolts upright onto his feet producing an abrupt swishy sound from the maraca lodged down his pants. His blonde curls are sticking out all over the place as he turns to look at me with his blue eyes shining.

"How do you think seagulls know whether they like each other or not? I mean, how do they make friends?" He asks in a panicked voice.

Trying not to laugh at his randomness I shrug my shoulders smiling in amusement before coughing to clear my throat,

"I dunno. Why?"

"I had this fucked up dream I was a seagull and all the other seagulls were ignoring me even though I was running after them shouting. None of them wanted to be my friend.."

He trails off, before laughing " fuck just how much did we drink last night.. "

"Way, way too much.." I moan and bury my head under my arm.

" I think, no wait I am...I'm still drunk, am I fuck going into work today..." Jazz states matter of factly,

" Hope we didn't wake the neighbours"

I hear the ping of Jazz's bass guitar and briefly remember Emmett falling over the coffee table last night to get to his bongos. And then flashbacks of a late night jam session of pretty much every Bob Marley song known to mankind flutter into cognition as Jazz lays back down at my feet and starts snoring again minutes later.

* * *

I must have drifted off to sleep as well, because I wake up sometime later spread out alone along the sofa and needing to piss like a motherfucking race horse. With a fucking post it note attached to my forehead.

Tearing it off, and narrowly avoiding screaming like a little bitch at how much it hurt since my fucking hair was caught up in it, I can just about make out what I recognize as Emmett's chicken scratchin scrawl.

"_Hitting that Red head :P catch ya later Wankward". _

The best part of the note though is the shitty stick people drawing on the bottom right hand corner. One of which I assume is Em complete with a cock larger than his body, the head of which is wrapped up in a pair of red lips belonging to a second stick person complete with red hair kneeling in front of him. And incase it couldn't get any better than that theres about 10 post it notes underneath the top note which make up a fucking flip book of stick man Em drilling his dick in and out of the red heads mouth. It's seriously a work of fucking art, good enough to get stuck on the fridge I think...

Sitting up and rubbing my eyes I stumble into the kitchen and stick the note onto the fridge grinning the whole time before making my way out into the hall towards my room only to find my jacket spread across the floor.

Fishing my phone out of the pocket I see its 6.43pm, fuck sake how long have I been sleeping. There's a missed call from Esme and a text from Jazz saying he's out getting us some hangover food, which no doubt will be made up of Hot Pockets, Ramen Noodles, Prawn Crackers and even more Chicken Nuggets for Jazz.

Making my way into my bedroom I quickly peel off my rank clothes before heading into my bathroom and taking the worlds longest and most satisfying piss.

I jump in for a quick shower, yawning the whole time since for some fucked up reason moving my ass from the sofa to the showers has knackered me out again. I pull on a pair of old worn in pj trousers and head out into the living room where I can hear Jazz moving around.

Walking back into the room I find Jazz settled back into the sofa with a McDonald's propped on his knee.

"Yours is in the kitchen" he muffles out through a mouthful of burger.

"Don't worry, there's Hot pockets in the kitchen for desert.." He laughs as he shoves a chicken nugget into his mouth along with the rest of his burger.

"Thanks"

I punch his shoulder lightly and try to fling a grateful smile at him before heading into the kitchen to retrieve yet another unhealthy meal.

I seriously don't think all this booze and take out is doing me any good. Carlisle would lose it if he seen half the shit I eat. Feeling guilty I decide I'm gonna leave the fries and only eat the burger, plus its a diet coke I've got that's the healthy choice right?

Making my way back into the living room I slouch down onto the sofa next to Jazz and start to slowly eat my burger, savouring it as I start to feel a little bit more human with each bite.

Its silent for a while, with the only sound in the room coming from the TV as Jazz watches Jackass and occasionally laughs at the stupid ass shit those boys get up to.

Usually I'd be laughing too but since I've been running various fucked up scenario's through my head of what could happen tomorrow, all of which ending with my balls retracting into my body and Park Girl laughing in my face, I'm starting to feel a bit worked up.

Its fucking Friday tomorrow. Glancing at the time on the TV I near enough start hyperventilating. It's fucking Friday in like 4 and a bit hours...shit.

Obviously Jazz being the perceptive fucker that he is, senses my moldy mood and makes an attempt to pull me out of my uneasy disposition.

"Don't worry Edward, it'll be fine. Just be you. That's all you gotta do. And don't put any pressure on yourself. I would say shes just like any other girl, but I get the feeling shes not just any girl..."

He smiles at me in his all knowing Jazz way again and laughs when I don't dispute him, because fuck, I know I dont feel like this when I think about any other girl.

"If all you find out tomorrow is her name? Then fuck, that's great.. you can build it up from there, no pressure mate"

Jazz says soothingly as he punches my arm lightly.

"But I've got a really good feeling about tomorrow. Something big''s gonna happen... I can feel it"

He states whilst smiling earnestly. And I believe him, because sure as shit something big is gonna happen tomorrow, and it can only go one of two ways. Either its gonna be a big fat fail or an epic win, at least I'll finally know though..

I smile genuinely for what must be the first time today and relax slightly more kicking my feet up onto the coffee table, I don't know how he does it but Jazz always calms me down.

I watch Jackass for a bit longer and guffaw along with him at the guys as they hide in the bushes at some Golf course blowing an air horn any time anyone makes a swing. Its pretty funny shit.

Yawning again I decide to head to bed early. I plug my iPod into its docking station to charge it up for tomorrow when I get in my room and scroll through the artists trying to find something that'll help me relax enough to sleep.

I stop searching when I reach Henryck Gorecki's Symphony Number 3. sticking it on low enough to sleep but loud enough that I can still hear the delicate piano before it stunningly bursts forth releasing it's ominous power.

I fall asleep easily my head swimming with the haunting music and memories of Park Girls smile from yesterday and dreaming of the million different ways I'd like to solicit to make her smile wide like that again.

* * *

**A/N**

Another authors note ? I hear you cry...Yep thats right, because I never know when the fuck to shut up on here which is kind of funny considering how quiet I am in RL.

So what do you think so far? Liking Em and Jazz? Liking Guitar Guy? hes just a big softie really (well other than the times I need him to be hard.. which may possibly be in more than one but less than three chapters :P oh I'm such a tease) Fed up with my ridiculous overuse of Anchorman quotes yet? because theres plenty more to cum, shit I meant come, Fanfic has corrupted me..

Okay so next Chapter will be back to BPOV I believe, and will either be up this weekend or next I havent decided yet..

Anyway, let me know what your thinking about the story so far, or just general ramblings about random crap (shitty jokes are always appreciated a la 'How does Bob Marley like his doughnuts? With Jammin' Mwahaha). I think I've drank too much coffee today,I do apologise :/

And since I'm a teasing whore those who review might well be rewarded with a little sneaky teaser of Chapter 5... *cough you will* :P

Speak to you soon my lovelies, Lulu x


	5. Chapter 5

G'day peeps! :)

Sooo... this was supposed to include BPOV of Friday, but that kind of didn't happen (it was seriously turning into an EPIC chapter so it had to be cut down).. next chapter I promise they will finally meet!

Huge thanks to everyone reading, favouriting, alerting and especially reviewing my silly little fic. I love to know what your thinking about the story so far :)

Special thanks to music4debbo for rec'd Place to be over at the amazing RaoR! A ridiculous amount of new readers showed up after that! Hey Pattinangels * wavesfrantically * :D

Hope everyone got their "Is it Friday yet?" mug.. :P

Disclaimer: I still own fuck all. Twilight or Rob's ass candy aint mine. Either is Robs peen dipped in JD barbecue sauce.*pout* I still dont know how the whole beta thing works, so this is Un-beta'd and I apologise for any spelling/grammar/general shittiness.

Songs featured in Chapter 5

Bob Marley – Looking in your big brown eyes

http://www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=dSVz_bA1SaM

(I was really temtped to get Guitar Guy songing this "Standing across the room I saw you smile, Said I wanna talk to you for a little while, But before I make my move, My emotions start running wild, My tongue gets tied, And thats no lie, Im looking in your eyes, Im looking in your big brown eyes.." fitting eh? lol )

* * *

**Chapter 5 – Obligatory 'Bella Barbie' chapter/ Bella's plan**

BPOV

My brain hurts. Is it possible to have carpal tunnel of the brain, maybe that's just what a headache is..

Another arcane "Humph!" from the shop window where Alice is currently banging around insulting Victoria's shitty window display momentarily snaps me back into the present. I quickly bark out an exceptionally bogus sounding "Har, Har!" laugh hoping it will appease Alice.

Silence..

Shit..

After a few more painstakingly long seconds of stillness the banging and thwacking of god only knows what becomes even more audible. I smile to myself as Alice's rather colourful monologue on exactly why Victoria sucks ass shortly follows and breathe a sigh of relief she hasn't noticed my inattentiveness.. though I'm sure the reprieve will be short lived.

Deciding its safer if I remain at least throwing distance away from Hurricane Alice I scoot back into the chair next to the cash register and continue "mmhmming", "yeahing" and scoffing at what I anticipate are the appropriate times as her histrionics persist reaching incredible crescendo's.

In reality I've been sitting on my ass for the past 25 minutes staring into space attempting to think up a plan of action for Friday and the inevitable embarrassment, awkwardness and general fuckery which will unfold when I attempt to speak to Adonis himself. Predictably I've yet to conspire a blueprint which allows me to even appear like a normal girl, never mind the alluring, intelligent and dexterous girl I want him to see me as.

Huffing I run my index finger around the rim of my coffee cup praying for some kind of inspiration before tracing over the letters printed upon it and snorting. Of course Alice would give me the "Is it Friday yet?" mug.

Rolling my eyes at no one in particular I sulk about some more doodling on some scrap receipt paper strewn on top of the desk. What starts out as a bunch of random squiggles and swirls soon evolves into a rather delicate and intricate sketch of a certain devastatingly handsome mans acoustic guitar. The bubble of nervous energy created by the mere thought of Guitar Guy swells and flutters deep within my stomach. A constant reminder Fridays not too far away..

Pushing the paper to one side and flinging the pen down in a stushie I fold my arms over the desk and rest my head on top sticking my lip out and pouting like a big ass baby. Basking in the sheer childishness of my own pity party for a while.

Glancing around the shop for inspiration my eyes fleetingly rest on one of Alice's new creations, a stunning floaty tulle champagne coloured dress with tiny golden flowers sparsely spread across the fabric. Maybe I could bring him flowers?

For the love of baby Jeebus Bella, flowers? Really? Do you genuinely think that big hunk of hairy sweaty manly man wants flowers?

Oh man, even my own subconscious is mocking me now.. she has, I mean, I have a point though, what the heck would he do with flowers.. and wait one damn minute when did Adonis transform into a "hairy sweaty" man.. actually hairy and sweaty sounds pretty damn good, I bet it looks spectacular as well....I feel a song coming on..

"_I want to make you sweat, Sweat till you cant sweat no more, And if you cry, ill, I'm gonna push it some more.." _

Probably tastes good too..shit not helping.

Groaning in frustration I shift my eyes around the rest of the store and come up empty. Although I don't know why I thought I'd get any ideas from the contents of a woman's boutique.

I'm supposed to be a creative person, I'm a flaming jewelery designer for Christ's sake, so why the heck cant I think of a reasonable and sane way of getting talking to some guy. Oh that's right because he isn't just some guy, this man is Adonis; an absolute god. My eyes finally come to rest on the "Is it Friday yet?" mug sitting directly in-front of my face jeering at me. Unfolding my arms and resting my chin on the desk top I reach out to envelope the luke warm mug of coffee in-between my hands sneering at the words so mockingly scrawled across it.

And that's when a plan hit's me.

Coffee.

Well not literally hit's me, although I did knock the cup over slightly in excitement. Thankfully the contents merely splurged over the rim onto the desk before diffusing outwards until meeting with the corner of the guitar doodle. The perfect white of the paper quickly absorbs the spillage, creating patterns as the pulp fibers stain an earthy brown

Dragging my eyes away from the coffee art I refocus my attention on the plan that's slowly beginning to form in my head. Coffee. Everyone likes coffee right? So.. I could bring him a coffee or something, that wouldn't look weird or stalkerish would it? It's just coffee.

No wait that would look weird if I suddenly turned up one day with a coffee for him, how exactly would I explain it? _" oh I just want to have your babies, I thought bringing you coffee might be a good start.."_ Compound into the mix the fact I've never uttered a word to him in the few months I've been sitting across from him and well.. yeah that would make me look a bit odd.

Letting out a colossal sigh with extra gusto I slump further across the desk. Apparently infusing too much gusto though since its met with an antagonized yell from Alice.

"Bellaa!! Are you even listening to me ?"

I can hear her stomping her feet and clicking her fingers loudly. Startled I spring up off the table and try to quickly calm her down with an unsure "mmhmmm" which only results in even more rapid foot stomping. Jesus shes gonna burn a whole in the floor if she keeps that up.. Grasping at straws I quickly shout across the room,

"yeah,what an idiot?!"

That seems to do the trick even if it came out sounding more like I was asking a question than conversing. Slouching back down onto the desk top I return to daydreaming about guitar guy under the guise of trying to think up something that could help me start a conversation with him.

I start practically salivating as I spend way too much time replaying the way his fingers wrapped around and glided over the neck of his guitar this morning. The bubble of energy descends deeper into my core, my whole body tickles and quivers. Oh god..

Geez, I need to get my head out of the gutter and back in the game. Right, maybe I should ask him about his music, since well obviously music's one of his passion's. I've only ever heard him play songs I know, or well know now after googling the fuck out of them. Perhaps he writes himself? Or maybe he plays in a band? Is that too forward or nosey? What if I just go for the kill and ask him to show me exactly how he likes to wrap his fingers around his co.. I mean around the neck of his guitar...oh god I'm going to burn in hell..

Internally screaming at myself for my lack of imagination I look back to my now empty coffee cup. Coffee. Its the best plan I've got. Slowly I rub my finger tips in circles around my temples to try and ease the dull thudding in my overworked brain, other thudding parts of my anatomy will need to wait until later. I need to pad out this coffee scheme its the only decent idea I've came up with... and that's when a tiny little purple sparkly fairy light flickers awake in my brain. Its simple, plausible and hopefully unpretentious.

I could just pretend I was supposed to be meeting someone in the park for coffee, and then oh so innocently pretend they were a no show and ask him if he wants the spare cup. That way he wont think I'm mental and buying him a coffee for no reason whatsoever and I can just play it off as 'waste not want not'. Plus, it means if he wants to continue talking to me he can, and if he wants to send my skanky ass yonder he can do that also. Although I'm gonna pray my little butt off he wont do that.

I just need to make up some kind of story to back up my scheming, I'll say Alice stood me up I'm sure she wont mind me dragging her name into the mix . Then once that's out the way and coffee's exchanged all I have to do is ease into a nice normal conversation with him... and refrain from easing myself slowly on top of his lap..which is gonna be really hard. That's what she said!

Snorting lightly and breaking out into a grin I mentally pat myself on the back. That's a fuckawsome ingenuous plan Bella, well done. Gold star and happy freaking face.

Well its not really that awesome a plan but with the degeneration of my brain as a result of thinking about his pretty so much, its the best I'm gonna come up with between now and doomsday.

Feeling a whole load better with the finalization of an actual plan I drag my ass off my chair and head towards the shop window to help Alice like I'm supposed to be. A loud "Oh! For Fuck Sake !" and something about Victoria smoking the Hawaii Maui Waui float's towards my ears, followed up with what I think are the lyrics to "Puff the magic dragon"..

Snorting I make my way over to Alice endeavoring to calm her down and subsequently save the mannequins she's currently tearing apart limb by limb instead of dressing. Grasping her hand I drag her kicking and screaming out of the window display before she turns green, rips her clothes off and starts smashing the whole shop up like the incerdible Hulk.

Quickly snatching my bag up from the floor behind the cash desk I pull a still resisting Alice out of the boutique with promises of cupcakes smothered in chocolate icing and warm milk with a splash of coffee. The tables instantly turn and I laugh freely as Alice sprints in front of me beaming and jerking my arm impatiently in her attempt to tug me down the street faster.

-------------

It's Thursday morning and I'm lying in my bed dying. No joke.. I'm positive I can feel all the stupid little cells in my body slowly raising their pristine white flags in surrender and allowing whatever parasites invaded my body to stake its claim. I think its fair to say my brain no longer merely hurts.

But since it's my turn to open up the boutique this morning I have no choice other than to crawl out of bed and fling myself in a nice warm shower begging Posiedon to work his magic and help the warm torrents of water make me feel slightly less like a zombie.

One plate of scrambled eggs, three cups of black coffee and 2 500mg tablets of Paracetamol later and I'm passed out in the office upstairs in Grandma Pearls while Angela does all the shit that I should be doing in order for the boutique to have any chance of lasting through the day without falling to pieces.

At 9.45am I wake up startled, confused and generally feeling like shit, to the shrill ringing of the office phone. Staggering out of the chair I scramble around the office searching under stacks of order sheets and folders until I finally find the cordless phone and answer putting on my best polite 'phone voice'.

As soon as I answer the phone however I wish I hadn't bothered. Leah sounds as good as I felt when I woke up and cant make it into work, and since the universe hates me it just so happens Jessica is on holiday this week meaning its only myself and Angela in the boutique all day.

Today is going to be a disaster of epic proportions.

As predicted Thursday turned out to be a classic day in the history of Grandma Pearls, where anything that could possibly go wrong, went wrong. I was stuck behind the cash register most of the day attempting, and mostly failing, to play nice with the, note air quotes here, 'customers', I say 'customers' because half of them didn't even bother buying anything. They merely clattered there stupid clompy shoes across the wood flooring of the boutique inciting my brain ache.

To say I was in a piss ass mood the whole day is an understatement. We were so rushed off our feet we couldn't even find a spare moment for a lunch break. Insert huge sad face here.

Halfway through the shift I managed to drag myself away from the haven of the stool at the cash register when I finally realized it really wasn't fair on Angela that I was slumped across the table while she was left to deal with the 'customers' stomping around and flitting in and out of the changing rooms.

She put up a pretty damn good fight, shouting her mouth off and telling me to park my ailing self back at the cash register before she was forced to open a can of whoop-ass on me. I eventually managed to convince her I was well enough to work the floor and sent her over to the cash register for a well earned break.

With Angela safely tucked away behind the till I was left to woman up and help the endless number of wannabe Lady Gaga's on the shop floor. Discernibly since my brain was still thudding away, my center of balance had disappeared down the drain in little swirls leaving me dizzy and nauseous. I nearly killed myself countless times tumbling up and down the huge staircase between collections – the more casual wear featured downstairs while the delicate evening wear was on display upstairs. Well, tumbling even more than usual anyway and ending the day with a huge bruise on my right shin. As if things couldn't get any worse, the heel fell off one of my favorite pairs of boots.

I actually stood in the middle of the shop floor staring at the little black rectangle that was my now detached heel for a solid 5 minutes, as though by some miracle, it would transform from an inanimate object to grow legs in order to march back over to me and reattach itself to my boot.

Angela finally came to my rescue wrapping her arm around my shoulders and gently rubbing my upper arm in soothing circles telling me it'll be all rite we've got some superglue in the office. Super gluing my heel back onto my boot felt like sacrilege and I nearly cried and then I laughed at myself for tearing up over a pair of boots. I know pathetic right? But it was just one of those days.

I'd never been so happy to shut up the boutique and head home in my life. Declining a lift from Angela's husband Ben I wandered along the streets enjoying the sensation of the light rain as it cooled my heated skin feeling better all the time.

In honor of my shitty mood and the fact my headache had all but disappeared, I stopped in at a Supermarket to purchase some Ben & Jerry's Cookie Dough flavor ice cream and a huge bag of the fail safe feel good food that is chocolate raisins. Fully intent on pigging out on the sofa whilst watching The Notebook or some other brilliantly sad romantic film I injected a little more spring into my step and sauntered back out into the street.

When I got home however that plan went down the shitter. Alice was waiting for me.

"Bella, what are these?"

She's holding out a pair of what I recognize as my panties. My big girl panties, the huge ones that hold everything in Ala Bridget Jones style and are reserved specially for the days when I feel like a beached whale. From the look on Alice's face she doesn't approve.

"Eh, panties ? " I offer hesitantly.

She quirks her eyebrow at me, gently shakes her head in a disapproving manner and simply states "No".

I look at her a whole lot more confused now and question "Yes?"

She shakes her head vigorously and grabs my hand heaving me upstairs.

"These" she pings the offending article over the banister "are not panties. Come with me I want to show you something"

Oh shit, I feel an Alice Brandon lesson in fashion coming on. She tugs me into my room and past my bed that I'm just aching to curl up in, and into the walk in wardrobe.

Dropping my hand she walks with determination over to a set of drawers. Making a complete show of pulling open my underwear drawer she empty's everything onto the floor. Ah buh... Every item of undergarment I own is now displayed in front of her like some kind of pervy buffet.

Staring at her in puzzlement I watch as she kneels down on the floor and pats the space next to her indicating I've to join her. She swiftly starts sorting through my underwear, separating them into two piles as though its a completely normal thing for her to be doing. I watch her in disbelief as she lets out little tut tut noises at what must be the particularly offensive items placing them in one of the two piles before she starts to explain.

"These are going into the bin" She motions to the smaller pile which is made up of my big girl pants and some admittedly rather shabby pants. Bye, bye, big girl pants, I'll miss you.

"These however can stay" She points to the second larger pile.

Reaching behind her back she pulls a flat pink box tied with black silk ribbon out placing it on the white carpet and pushing it towards me. How did I not notice that when I came in? I know immediately it's from Agent Provocateur and raise a skeptical eyebrow but falling short in suppressing an excited smile. Alice smiles brightly and motions for me to open it sliding it even closer towards me.

Abiding her order I quickly pull off the ribbon and open the box up. Wrapped up in gauzy tissue paper lies a black lace bra and panty set with tiny delicate blue lotus flowers sewn throughout.

"According to Egyptian mythology the blue lotus is a flower of intoxication and female sexuality" Alice explains in a soft voice.

The lotus flowers glow almost luminous against the inky blackness of the lace, entwining themselves sinuously around the curve of each breast and fanning outwards from the crotch of the panties. This underwear is cunningly, knowingly erotic. We worship in silence for a moment.

Alice finally breaks the silence looking me sternly in the eye. Uh oh here it comes.

"Underwear is not just underwear, Bella. Every item of clothing you own should do its job with a semblance of grace and dignity."

Why do I feel like a naughty 2 year old getting told of by my mom,

"Lingerie, Bella, is the true garment of your secret sexual self. And nasty big girl panties completely sabotage your sexual self esteem"

Why does she keep saying my name? Oh wait she's looking at me like I'm supposed to answer her or something, wasn't that a statement? Maybe she wants me to agree with her...that must be it. I nod enthusiastically like a good little student. Alice seems satisfied and carries on, motioning to the astute underwear.

"These are for tomorrow, a kind of good luck thing I suppose, not that you'll need it.." She trails of smiling genuinely.

Well hellooo there my new friends. Grinning I launch myself in her direction hugging the living death out of her tiny body. Alice being Alice laps up my reaction and hugs me back just as tightly, no doubt feeling delighted with herself that I didn't throw my usual fit. Alice lives for clothes, I don't think I've bought an item of clothing since I met her and her favorite game seems to be playing 'Dress up Bella'.

"Thanks Alice" I say softly into her shoulder, completely honest.

"No problemo, Bells. Just make sure you wear them tomorrow and work your inner sex kitten. He wont know what's hit him"

She lightly taps my shoulder to signal I've to let her go. Standing up she points at me and states teasingly while smirking,

"I have shown you greatness, now please go and buy some proper underwear..or even better let me take you..."

Rolling my eyes at her I agree to let her take me underwear shopping at some point in the near future, bitch has good taste if this is anything to go by

------------------

The life lessons didn't stop there though. My ice-cream and raisins were confiscated and rationed. I could have killed Rose. "You are what you eat Bella, and you'll feel like _crap_ tomorrow if I let you eat all of this _crap_" Rose chided me, "and then, because I know how that little so called 'brain' of yours works, you'll use that as an excuse not to talk to this guy. And god help you if you don't actually talk to him"

Another stern look from Rose was the only thing that kept me from arguing back or making a grab for the full tub of ice-cream and running from the apartment. I was however allowed to put my snoopy pj's on and curl up on the sofa with Alice, Rose a hot-water bottle and my allotted amount of ice-cream watching The Notebook and pretty much quoting the whole film. I'm a sucker for that film its like the lion king, makes me cry every god damn time.

Heading to bed after the film I felt pretty damn good about the prospect of tomorrow. I had everything ready, my outfit was planned to the T (by myself after much protest from Alice) and sitting on my dresser waiting for the break of day, my bag was packed, iPod and phone charged, and I was going to get the recommended 8 hours of sleep tonight for the first time in what feels like forever.

I feel like a little kid the night before starting back school. All organized and eager for the next day despite the butterflies battling it out deep down in my stomach. I fall asleep pretty much as soon as my head hit's the pillow, surprisingly, looking forward to all that will unfold tomorrow.

* * *

AN

So just a short chapter, what do you think about the length? prefer this or the longer length ? *snicker*

I apologise if you feel the storys dragging a bit ( if I ever go back and edit this I will definetely keep that in mind), I was just trying to set out the personalitys of the characters a bit before everything became a little lemon tinged :P, but next few chapters should start to pick up the rhythm, I mean pace..shit that still sounds filthy in my mind, FF has corrupted me..

Thanks for reading and feel free to let me know what your thinking about the story or just shit in general :P

(BTW I meant to ask did anyone get the Black Dog thing? You know the name of the guys band? it is a fuck awsome Led Zep song.. but in reference to twilight?)

lulu x


	6. Chapter 6

Howdy peeps!

Its Friday! well not actually but you get what I mean...

Sorry about the wait but RL is all shades of shit right now.

Anyway this chapter pulls out one of the ultimate stalking songs and some of my favourite songs ever. Plus we make contact..finally I hear you cry!

Thanks to everyone who's showing support by adding to favourite's, alerts and especially the little angels who are reviewing!

Special shout out to katie if shes still reading, who suggested one of the songs used in this here chap. If anyone else has any songs they'd like Guitar Guy to play just let me know and ill see what i can do :)

This chapters EPIC long, so grab a coffee, munch a cupcake and kick your feet up, and hopefully *fingers crossed* enjoy?!.. let me know either way

Disclaimer: I own fuck all still. Twilight and Edward Cullen don't belong to me, but that doesn't bother me, I'd much rather have Rob. All these things aren't mine as well: Rain Man, Anchorman, The Labyrinth, The Sound of Music, Starbucks, Forrest Gump, Bubbleboy, Slaughterhouse five, Theres Something About Mary, Miss Piggy, The Goonies ( including the Truffle shuffle *sadface*),or The Jungle Book... I think thats them all, and they sure as hell make a random looking list :P. Still dont know how the whole beta thing works so this is unbeta'd.

Songs featured in Chapter 6

'All that Jazz' Liza Minelli

'Sensual seduction/sexual eruption' Snoop Dogg

'Magic song' David Bowie

'Unchained Melody' The Righteous Brothers

'Strange and Beautiful (I'll put a spell on you)' Aqualung

'Smile' Unkle Kracker

'Something' The Beatles (I 3 this song soooo much)

'The Blowers Daughter' Damien Rice ( another of my favs )

'Dont stop believin' Journey

'Purple Rain' Prince

' Love is a stranger' The Eurythmics

'Suck on my lollipop' DJ Alligator

Jeezo thats a lot of song references :/, Il put the link up to the playlist asap. But all can be found on youtube anyway, if your deperate to see them ..

* * *

_Heading to bed after the film I felt pretty damn good about the prospect of tomorrow. I had everything ready, my outfit was planned to the T (by myself after much protest from Alice) and sitting on my dresser waiting for the break of day, my bag was packed, iPod and phone charged, and I was going to get the recommended 8 hours of sleep tonight for the first time in what feels like forever._

_I feel like a little kid the night before starting back school. All organized and eager for the next day despite the butterflies battling it out deep down in my stomach. I fall asleep pretty much as soon as my head hit's the pillow, surprisingly, looking forward to all that will unfold tomorrow._

**Chapter 6 – Coffee/"A Gruesome Cannibalistic Scene in Central Park"**

Its Friday. Fucking Friday morning, 6.35am on Friday the 19th of June in the year 2009 to be precise. And all of the anticipation I had subtly coursing through my body last night has been replaced with a deep quaking sense of dread caustically rushing through my veins. I couldn't possibly feel any more dismayed, discouraged or demoralized... this is a D day for sure. Shit D day... that's really not a good thing to be thinking about right now...

And of course this newly acquired state of disheartenment has resulted in my second guessing every single fucking thought and move I make. Including the completely ridiculous and inconsequential motions, such as whether to use my regular Strawberries and Cream shampoo or my 'saved for special occasions' Smooth Intense Anti-frizz shampoo. I honestly stand in the shower for a good 10 minutes scratching my head,no pun intended, while comparing the bottles. Scrutinizing every minute frivolous detail. From their claims to give super shiny sleek hair and frizz free flowing locks respectively, to the listed ingredients before deciding I am seriously loopy, (what the heck do I know about that crap?! Fuck all that's right..) and sticking with my regular shampoo.

I emerge from the bathroom 30 minutes later, freshly shaved, exfoliated and moisturized -the moisturizing may have been a bit excessive- and smelling like Strawberries and Cream. The first step in my plan to talk to Guitar Guy complete; Clean and Preen self. I may also have been humming "All that Jazz" at this point, its hard to tell when the Liza Minnelli transformation formally commenced...

The next step in my carefully formulated plan to sensually seduce Guitar Guy, wait a damn second is that really what I'm trying to do here? Seduce him? My subconscious has apparently woke up after the unusually long muggy shower and hollers a _'Hell-a-yes!_ while waving a squeezy bottle of honey in the air and singing Snoop Dogg's _'Sensual Seduction'._.. fair enough. Anyway next step is to put some clothes on. I think I may possibly be going about this seduction thing the wrong way..

It sounds so menial 'put clothes on', but in this moment it feels like a near impossible feat as I scowl at the black skinny jeans, white shirt and wedges ensemble I had originally planned on donning. I continue scowling at the outfit for another 5 trivial minutes before deciding my planned to the freaking T clothing makes me look well, boring to be honest.

Not even the multiple lengths of colorful gemstone necklace's made by my own fair freaking hands can vivify the lackluster outfit. It still looks unexciting and plain when I want nothing more than to look exotic, intriguing and like I just stepped out of his freaking dreams. Like some kind of enigma Adonis himself couldn't conceivably fathom leaving alone until he had cracked. Although, its ridiculous and egotistical, to think that I could affect anyone that strongly..

I then, in true Bella style, started freaking the hell out. Banging around my walk in wardrobe in a nonsensical inertia, singing "All that Jazz" at top volume now as I continue lobbing various items of clothing around the room that just aren't going to work. I'm in near hysterical tears when Alice, my savior bathed in white light (okay maybe that's a bit dramatic but surrounded by the early morning sun anyway) came lithely springing into the room. Jazz hands a go go.

She pauses to take in the frenetic scene I have managed to accomplish before shaking her head and letting out a laugh at my expense. I watch her through crazy wide eyes as she grins at me and with the grace and skill she beholds has a full outfit laid out on the floor in front of me in a mere 2 minutes. Why the hell can't I do that?..

It's simple in a non dreary way, still not very exotic but nevertheless it's very me. Which is the important part...I suppose. A floaty blue flower print dress with a black waist belt -one of Alice remarkable creations- complete with a black cardigan and a pair of kitten heels.

Eh, noooo... kitten heels are not gonna work for many a ,many a reasons, at the top of that list is (1) The fact they have a heel, and, (2) I don't have time for a concussion and subsequent impromptu trip to the E.R today.

After scores of pouts and frowns from Alice, and a spectacular and genuine display of exactly why I should never wear heels is backed up by my inability to walk 3 yards without falling over my own feet and I'm allowed to throw on my old faithful purple chucks. But only on the condition I wear my purple sugillate crystal necklace and ring with it. Since according to Alice "_It's perfect. It promotes positive thoughts and feelings of confidence"._ Geez, when did Alice become all New Age Spiritual and shit...

I also, as promised, wear the new black lace with blue lotus flowers lingerie Alice bought for me yesterday. I grudgingly have to admit to an entirely too gleeful Alice that I feel a hell of a lot more empowered than usual whilst prancing about in them.. well more empowered than I've ever felt if truth be told.

Thankfully Alice's prudent intervention has calmed me down a hell of a lot and I'm able to resume getting ready with the finesse of a semi-sane person. I've moved down a notch, from full out singing to humming _"All that jazz".._

Leaving my hair to dry naturally and do its own thing, I focus my attention on putting some light make-up on. By some strange voodoo-baby or possibly goat-sacrificing-magic I succeed in brushing a light coat of mascara onto my long eyelashes without poking myself in the eye with the wand. Can you say...Result!

Smirking at my small victory over my own natural clumsiness, and reveling in the fact that the tear film of my eyes or 'windows to my soul' are not stained an ominous black, I half think about putting some blusher on my forehead and chin. You know...to try and even out the crimson flush which will inescapably grace my cheeks with it's presence as soon as I look at Guitar Guy never mind attempt to chit-chat with him. Did I seriously just say Chit-chat?, Jeebus when did I turn into Sue...

After a considerable stretch, reason seems to emerge from some hidden corner of my brain. _Yeah Bella,_ _painting your forehead and chin red will only lead to you looking like you have contracted some mental Tropical disease to every other inhabitant of New York. Idiot.._ Geez, subconscious give me a brake here, go back to the honey smothering fantasies. I add that brainchild to the rather long list of fucked up ideas that have been conspired whilst intoxicated by thoughts of the pretty...dipped in honey.

A quick coat of syrupy sweet Caramel Apple lip-gloss( which is promptly licked off as visions of Guitar Guy dipped in honey float through my deprived psyche) and I'm, in theory, good to go. _That's what she said!_ God, I really need to stop hanging out with Alice so much..

Looking in the wall length mirror at the complete article, I'm pretty damn pleased with what I've, well Alice really, has managed to achieve. I don't look like an idiot so that's gotta be a good thing. I faintly hear Alice shout through from my bedroom,

"No one dressed by me _ever _looks like an idiot, Bella!".

Scoffing at her claim (I seem to recollect very vividly, visions of Alice wearing a banana yellow jumpsuit whilst driving her banana-mobile Porsche in the not so distant past). I head out to my bedroom and pick up my already packed bag waiting for me on the dresser. Spinning around in search of Alice, because I'm positive she'll want to give me a once over before I'm deemed suitable enough for public viewing, I'm received with an ear-splitting "Weet-a-wow!" from the little pixie in question as she stands bouncing excitedly on my bed. Puck is gonna break even more of my bed springs dammit..

She lets out another shrieking "Weet-a-wow!" before violently slamming herself down on to the bed. I internally cringe as I imagine the springs protesting at the sharp movement.

The thing about Alice and whistling is well, she can't. It's one of the many peculiar or _special'_ things about Alice. No matter how many times, and believe me there have been a shitload of times, Rose and I try to teach her, she just ends up spluttering, drooling, blowing bubbles and all in all having a bit of a Rain Man moment.

Alice however is not one to be missing out on the whimsical fun of such an act as whistling and so 'improvises' by shouting what she supposes the relevant whistle would sound like. You haven't wholly lived until you've been to see a game with the weird and wonderful whistling Tourette's version of tiny Mary Alice Brandon. The crowds reaction to her alone will make you piss your pants.

"You look shit hot Bells", She smiles zealously before wishing me good luck in a rather tactless manner yelling ,"Break a leg!", blithely into my ear whilst enveloping me in a robust hug. Yeah, I will literally break a leg now, thanks Alice...

Getting my $200 pass and go Monopoly style from Alice, we both head out of my bedroom, I froth inside as I trip over the skirting of the door and Alice seems to float and dance beside me, graceful as anything.

With a final pat on the back from Alice I watch jealously as she flirts ethereally along the hall back towards her own bedroom. Prudently, having learned from past experience its a necessity, I clutch onto the banister and descend the stairs slowly in seek of the kitchen and the promise of a breakfast good enough to bug-zap the infestation of butterflies in my stomach.

Smiling at the 1930's replica _Kit Kat_ clock complete with moving eyes and tail on the kitchen wall I note with a mixture of happiness and nerves that I still have plenty of time to spare before I realistically need to leave.

Checking the contents of the fridge I pull out some eggs and milk before making some fuck hot Honey French toast with truly excessive amounts of sugar sprinkled on top, because there just wasn't enough sugar in the honey already... Good thing Diabetes doesn't run in my family or I'd be royally fucked. _Are we talking about being royally fucked by the Honey French toast or the Pretty smothered in honey here,_ _"Sexual seduction, So I can get a, Sexual seduction, So we can get a, Sexual seduction..." _Apparently my subconscious thinks its time for the dirty version of sensual seduction..

I revel gloriously in the thrilling sugar buzz which ignites upon my taste buds as the first bite enters my mouth before moving to sit at the kitchen table positioned close to the wall of windows encompassing the kitchen. I watch the hundreds of people already scurrying along the streets below in an attempt to occupy my mind and ease the nervous tension which is continuing to pent up within my body. They look like tiny colorful ants against the darkness of the pavement's,

At twenty to nine I tear my eyes away from the rather successful and strangely amusing distraction of the rainbow of ant human hybrids and head out to the hall.

Taking a colossal breath, holding it in for 10 seconds then releasing it in a loud whoosh, I learned that shit on Oprah, I try to 'woman-up' and get myself ready to do this...A name, all I need today is a name and Psycho imposter Rose will allow me to live another day. I do a little rendition of the Magic Song from The Labyrinth Ala David Bowie style, to get myself psyched up, and well just because that shits funny-cheesy and makes me "laugh like a brook". Yes, I did indeed just quote The Sound of Music..

"_You remind me of the babe, _

_What babe?, _

_The babe with the power,_

_What power?_

_The power of voodoo,_

_Who do?, _

_You do !"_

Damn right I got the power, I can do this I'm feeling good. Today's going to be a good day.

I check my reflection one last time in the hallway mirror, inspecting for any embarrassing greasy French toast finger stains or sugary smears...nope all clear thankfully. I triple check my bag to ensure I definitely have money to carry out the next step in my plan. Buy Coffee. With any luck this phase of the plan will go more smoothly than the previous two.

I fish my apartment keys out from the muddle of random crap that's been abandoned in the key word here is ironically _Key_ dish. I only just avoid getting my finger stuck in an Amazing Chinese Finger Trap.

Amazing my ass, after 30 minutes believe me it ain't very amazing or amusing, I had to look up Wikipedia to find out how to get out of that fuckery. For your information, mayonnaise doesn't work it just makes shit a whole load worse, or comical if your Rose and happen to have been the one who planked said finger trap...I still need to get her back for that. Pushing new plans of revenge to the back of my mind I steel myself heading out the apartment while searching out my iPod from my bag.

The elevator by some unknown marvel is sitting vacant waiting for me to cross the threshold. I hit the button for the ground floor before swiftly sticking my headphones in to drown out the monotonous drone of the classic ubiquitous 'elevator music' version of Unchained Melody.

This is where the first quandary in step 3 of my plan materializes. I don't know what the heck to listen to... I always listen to Guitar Guys playlist when I'm heading to see him. But, I'm not sure if listening to it today will only result in jolting my nerves and causing the somewhat repressed nausea to become viral or not. Fuck it... I need to stick to routine. I need to stick to my plan. I'm a bit anal once I've made a decision or a schedule I have to stay with it.

Selecting the familiar playlist and hitting shuffle as per usual, the delicate and wraith-like piano of Aqualungs , 'Strange and Beautiful (I'll put a spell on you)' resonates images of Guitar Guy playing this song acoustically from months ago. The sensation immediately overpowers and cancels the unnerving warbling of Unchained Melody previously submerging me.

_I've been watching your world from afar_

_I've been trying to be where you are_

_And I've been secretly falling apart_

_Unseen_

_To me, you're strange and you're beautiful_

_You'd be perfect with me_

_But you can't see_

_You turn every head but you don't see me_

In what feels like no time at all I've departed the elevator and pushed my way out of my apartment building onto the street. I walk torpid and languorously along the street's, past the hundreds of civilians brushing past each other in their haste to be some place more important than the others. The air almost hums with static electricity as I'm engulfed in the haunting lyrics. Before I even know it, I've halted abruptly outside the entrance of Starbucks, while passers by bump and collide around me in their attempts to avoid the crazy girl having a fit outside Starbucks..

I quickly dart out of the onrush of civilians and push the ludicrously heavy door open. Seriously why are their doors so heavy? Is it to stop kid's from getting in? Maybe it's to stop the weak..survival of the fittest or something else Darwinian. I immediately make my way over to the counter and take my place behind one of the many generic business men awaiting their morning caffeine fix.

It's not long before theirs a backlog of customers in queue behind me and I busy myself once again people watching with the added bonus of eavesdropping this time around. Apparently someone called Irina "_has had the clap so many times it amounts to applause_".

A burst of blue plaid and black leather flashes fleetingly into my vision, stifling my sniggering, freezing my body and prompting memories of Guitar Guy. I recover quickly and spin around towards the door in search of the blue plaid, perchance it's him.

Turns out to just be a freakishly tall woman though...damn androgynous clothes, in fact I think I have that shirt too. The incidence has done nothing to aid my already fragile nerves and I squirm as the flight of butterflies within my stomach pick up their pace once more.

And cue the second classic Bella style freakout of the day. My skin starts bubbling as my subconscious dredges up the exact images I've been trying to avoid. The numerous ways I've established over the past 2 days that I could fuck this meeting up.

I try to repress these visions as I move forward to make up the gap that's formed between myself and the suit in front during my freakout. The counter is visible now and I concentrate on watching the Barista messing about with ice and syrup bottles to occupy my mind and attempt to restrain my inner irrational nut. It has quite the opposite affect however and an onslaught of new fuckery bashes my brain.

Fuck... what if he doesn't like coffee. What if hes allergic to coffee.. I've heard stories of people being allergic to the _smell_ of freaking coffee. Jeebus, maybe I should get a coffee and a tea. Give him a choice of death by coffee or not. Shit..no, I need to stick with the plan. The plan was coffee, that's what I said I was gonna do so that's whats happening. If he does so happen to be allergic to the smell of coffee, he can run away like the wind blows freaking Forrest Gump style. I'll even shout _"Run, Forrest run!_" to spur him on if needs be..

I eventually arrive at the front of the queue and immediately start to order two white coffees to go but stutter half way through and let out an involuntary strangled yelp as visions of Guitar Guy keeled over because he's allergic to milk and I've given him freaking milk float through my mind...Holy crow, I really don't want to kill the pretty.

Maybe you should buy him a plastic bubble suit and holler _"He's got no immunities!"_ Sheesh ,Bella, overreacting much? Ah so my subconscious has returned from the dark or should I say lemon tinged and honey flavored side now...

Absurd whiny moaning baby-like noises from the suit behind me in the queue brings me free of my visions and I settle on ordering a white coffee and a black coffee. I do check a crazy number of times with the Barista that she hasn't accidentally added any trimmings like cream or syrup shots into the black coffee. Sugar intolerance anyone?

Carefully picking up the coffee's after paying I head over to the condiments stand where I shamelessly load heaps of sugar (brown and white), sweeteners, milk pots, cream, stirrers and napkins into my bag.

Basically anything I can get my kleptomaniacal little hands on. Making sure I pocket what would appear to an outsider/normal person to be unwarranted piles of napkins. In preparation for spillages since well, it is me and I can sense a reenactment of the infamous freaking egg and spoon race of 2nd grade coming on as I, with the grace of a freaking hippopotamus, attempt to carry two very full cups. Two very flaming hot full cups might I add.

Needless to say the likeliness of not spilling at least half of the coffee out of the cup and onto my person is pretty damn low. Or even worse my number 1 fear could come to be. I could spill it on Guitar Guy. I have seriously had nightmare's about burning his crotch with wakey juice.

Ooh maybe that wouldn't be too bad, I'd need to _blow_ on it to cool it down, then unquestionably I'd need to kiss it all better. I cant help but snort out loud at how ludicrously possible and probable that situation is. Well the spilling part anyway...

My laughter earns a derogatory sneer from the whiny baby-man who was behind me in the line as he stirs his no doubt completely overcomplicated drink. Seriously, you really want a grande extra hot soy with extra foam, split shot with half a squirt of sugar-free vanilla and a half squirt of sugar-free cinammon, put in a venti cup and filled up with extra whipped cream with caramel and chocolate sauce drizzled on top?

I try not to glower back at him as I continue packing in even more napkins just to spite him. What's his deal ? Its not as if he's paying for them..

I fling a sickly sweet smile in the high and mighty fucker in a suit with his crappy leather briefcase ( whose only contents is most likely a stinky tuna sandwich and an apple) as he tut tuts in abhorrence. Most likely muttering some shit about the youth of today, because God forbid anyone should be having a nice day. Carefully picking up my hot cargo I give him one more biliously sweet smile as I pass by heading out the heavy door and in the direction of Central Park.

My iPod shuffles again and Uncle Kracker's 'Smile' boosts my moral as I smile along with the infectiously happy lyrics. How can you not smile while listening to a song entitled 'Smile'? It freaking impossible.

_You're better than the best_

_I'm lucky just to linger in your light_

_Cooler than the flip side of my pillow, that's right_

_Completely unaware_

_Nothing can compare to where you send me,_

_Lets me know that it's okay, yeah it's okay_

_And the moments where my good times start to fade_

The early morning sun is shining artfully over the city casting a faint but warm golden glow which bounces off the buildings and flickers as cars pass by. I reach the familiar park entrance and skip through the gates admiring the green leaves of the trees as they almost twinkle awake in the dim morning sun.

_You make me smile like the sun_

_Fall out of bed, sing like a bird_

_Dizzy in my head, spin like a record_

_Crazy on a Sunday night_

_You make me dance like a fool_

_Forget how to breathe_

_Shine like gold, buzz like a bee_

_Just the thought of you can drive me wild_

_Oh, you make me smile_

I can almost feel the moment that the rabble of butterflies within the butterfly box, which was previously my stomach, burst through causing my whole body to pulsate in a bunch of divergent emotions. Luckily for me, buoyant anticipation of what could be seems to be winning out over trepidation for the moment. I follow the wonted path and round the corner leading to the little cozy nook which situates our benches.

I glance down at my iPod to check the time, its already 09.10am, meaning he should be here pretty damn well soon. I practically skip to my bench at the thought of seeing him again and the resolve of finally talking to him. I'm feeling good right now.

Sitting down in my usual place to be in my habitual manner I place the coffees down on the bench surface beside me before discarding my bag on my other side. I inspect the damage I've managed to inflict upon the beverages and smile superiorly as I note that most of the coffee is indeed still held captive within the cups. In spite of the fact I had a slight disagreement with a newspaper hazardously sliding along the sidewalk and just avoided hitting the sidewalk by utilizing the sturdy person walking in front.

Slouching down in my usual position I rest my head against the back of the bench and watch the leaves in the canopy of trees above my head. Completely immersed in the light-show, every single leaf shining bright and glitzing uniquely in the sun. It doesn't take long before the fulguration of deep sea green, jade and emerald lights contrasting against the blue sky starts to remind me of Guitar guys eyes and the butterflies flap with renewed vigor.

The song ends and the opening chords of the acoustic version of The Beatles 'Something' starts up melodiously.

_Something in the way she moves_

_Attracts me like no other lover_

_Something in the way she woos me_

_I don't wanna leave her now_

_You know I believe and how_

_Somewhere in her smile she knows_

_That I don't need no other lover._

_Something in her style that shows me._

_I don't want to leave her now,_

_You know I believe and how._

Looking around for something, anything else to distract me from my waiting I look across at his usual bench and spy a small brown bird just behind it jumping animatedly around the grass on its little spindly legs as it fishes for worms. For some reason the tiny buzzards energy and well boney little legs remind me of Alice, I don't think I'll be telling her about that though..

The song ends and Damien Rice's unmistakable heartbreaking voice flows through the speakers singing 'The Blowers daughter''. I freaking love this song and nearly died on the spot when he sung it a few weeks back. Its 09.17am now. Any minute now he should be walking around the corner all carefree and mouth wateringly hot.

_And so it is_

_The shorter story_

_No love, no glory_

_No hero in her skies_

_I cant take my eyes off of you_

_I cant take my eyes off of you _

_I cant take my eyes off of you_

_I cant take my eyes off of you _

_I cant take my eyes off of you _

_I cant take my eyes... _

09.24am, still no Guitar Guy. I unplug myself from my iPod and chuck it into my bag, why does time seem to be reverting? Approximately 1 minute later I seem to develop the undying urge to bite my nails, I never bite my nails..

09.28am I sigh in vexation and pull out my book to read some and attempt to salvage what remains of my nails.

_" "Oh my God," said Valencia, leaning over him," Billy- are you all right? _

_"Yes."_

_"You look awful."_

_"Really-I'm O.K." And he was, too, except that he could find no explanation as to why the song had_ _affected him so grotesquely. He had supposed for __years he had no secrets from himself. Here was proof that he had a great big secret somewhere inside, and he could not for the life of him think what it was."_

Sighing in aggravation I whip shut the book with as much force as you can whip shut a 157 page long paperback. That line _"he could find no explanation as to why the song affected him so grotesquely" _runs through my head in an unremitting loop_._ Yeah you and me Billy pilgrim.

Back to the nail biting then...

It doesn't take long before the dominant emotion switches from anticipation, back to dismay. I start to feel stupid. I mean seriously stupid and seriously ignominious, normal people don't devise crap foolish, and possibly disturbing in some peoples eyes, plan's just to talk to a random man. Especially not when they cant really explain why they want to talk to said man... I don't think he'd really be interested in me rambling and stuttering on about the unexplainable affect just seeing him never mind hearing his voice has on me...

09.40am. The view hasn't got any better, still no Guitar Guy. The birds gone now as well.

09.41am I think its time for some 80s power-ballad action. I select the playlist and hit shuffle, Journeys 'Don't stop believing' comes on, yep that'll do nicely. I lift one of the cups up from the bench beside me, my posture deflating as I swirl the now freezing cold coffee around in a circular motion a few times before sitting it back down.

_Stranger waiting_

_Up and down the boulevard_

_Their shadows searching_

_In the night Streetlights, people_

_Livin' just to find emotion_

_Hidin' somewhere in the night_

Sliding backwards until my back meets the bench I lift my knees up and wrap my arms around them getting comfy before burying my head into the little cocoon this motion provides. Feeling pretty fucking resigned,

Its obvious to me now he's not coming today, he's always here though and the only reason I can think why he isn't is because of me. I've probably creeped him the hell out with my little display and fan-girl sing-along the other day. I should just change my middle name to 'Twat'. Isabella Twat Swan has a certain ring to it.. Plus if he does appear now I cant exactly offer him freaking freezing cold coffee, can I?..

_Don't stop believin'_

_Hold on to the feelin'_

_Streetlights, people_

_Don't stop believin'_

_Hold on _

_Streetlights, people.._

Yeah, yeah Steve Perry put a freaking sock in it. I quickly skip from the 'inspirational' Journey song while rolling my eyes, to something a bit more fitting. Prince 'Purple Rain' oh yeaahhh... nothing like screeching along to a little Princey boy, no pun intended on the little, to make you feel a hell of a lot bigger, I mean better.

I let out a loud despondent lungful of useless air mangled with a quiet animalistic sounding screak in preparation for the '_I know, I know, I know times are changing'_ crescendo before loping back into my cocoon.

Not even Prince can save me from the gloom that engulf''s me as I realize I don't know how long I will have to wait before I see him again, if ever.

I stay nestled in my cocoon swaying along with the music and most likely looking like Mary''s brother Warren from _There's Something About Mary_ after Ted touches his ear. It's only when the song ends and I stop wobbling that I become aware of the heat of another persons body situated close to me. I turn my head to peek out and inspect my new bench buddy to find Alice sitting next to me excitedly swinging her feet and smiling in my direction.

Her momentum comes to a standstill though when she takes in my expression, I must look like someones shot my puppy, which makes me feel even more pathetic than before, Jeebus Bella pull yourself together woman..

I bury my head again into the solace of my cocoon as The Eurythmics 'Love is a Stranger'' comes on my iPod Alice slides along the bench until our sides are snuggled together. She wraps her left arm around my back pulling out my left earphone and, I'm assuming, putting it in her own ear before placing her hand on my back and rubbing in calming circles. I can make out Alice singing along quietly next to me and smile at her little squeaky voice, I cant sing but Alice really cant sing for shit...

"_And I want you_

_And I want you_

_And I want you, so_

_Its an obsession!!"_

For fuck sake, even Annie's taking the piss out of me..The song ends and Alice is apparently becoming annoyed with my vow of silence and unwillingness to leave my hidey-hole as she removes her hand from my back, poking me with her twiggy fingers a few times along the way. The iPod is swiftly yanked from my ear, I can hear her fidgeting and twitching next to me and suppress the snort I want desperately to release. Ah how I love to fuck with Alice...

Unfortunately for me her clairvoyant ways pick up on this fact and she speedily seeks my hands out and pulls softly on it prying at my refuge until I have no choice but to open myself up. Turning her body to face me she keeps a hold on my hand before speaking.

"What the heck happened Bella, I thought you were doing some kind of introverted victory dance sitting here at first..."

I snicker at her before she carries on in a different train of thought.

"I honestly thought it was going to go really well, Petal... I had one of those feelings, you know... I've always been right before now..." Alice trails off her face scrunched and her voice embodied with disappointed and confusion as she scratches behind her ear. A tell tale sign that somethings worrying her.

I take a deep breath and ready myself to put her out of her misery and tell her he was a no show when she continues talking in the same confused tone before her pitch abruptly flips and her voice is positively dripping with...aggression.

"What happened, Bells? Did you spill hot coffee all over his _crotch _like you thought you would? did you burn his _peen_? Is he at the hospital.. no?..."

I let out a Miss Piggy quality snort here as Alice whispers the word's _crotch_ and _peen_, who's she trying to kid shes a lady to..

"Where is he then? What did he say to you? He didn't do anything to you did he Bells? Because I swear if he did I'll find him and I'll cut off his..."

I chuckle loudly at her invective line of questioning which luckily grabs her attention long enough to cut off her rant, rather than any of Guitar Guy's appendages.

"Bells?" She questions suspiciously, one of her eyes narrowed and the other wide and owl like watching me like I'm mentally unstable, hell maybe I am..

"He didn't show up Alice" I explain before going on to chronicle in epic detail every single little event which had ensued up until this point in time. Making sure to point out all the stupid flaws which had occurred in my 'meticulous' plan.

At least I was logical in my ranting for once though, starting with the shampoo debacle before going on to the clothes escapade (which although Alice was a primary witness to she allowed me to vent anyway, bless her), the asshole suit received a hell of a bashing too, although he was more of a scape goat for my anger than anything really, then the freaky quote from the book before ending with the final nail in the Coffee plans coffin, the cold coffee and subsequent downfall of my plan. No one wants cold coffee.

Feeling the need to explain my crazy woman tendencies I use PMT as an excuse for the ranting and general wackness. Alice merely laugh's at me lightly once I have finished, letting me know with a quirk of her eyebrow she isn't buying the PMT excuse. She knows I'm an obsessive compulsive plan making freak. She quickly bursts to life though in typical Alice fashion shedding her own view on the fuckery.

"Bells, come on you've got yourself all worked up and freaking out for no reason as per usual, and you know it. You over think and over complicate everything, Petal, you need to loosen up and live in the moment"

She pats my hand lovingly and I smile slightly at her to let her know I'm not offended by her comment. Which I'm not, because I know it's true I cant help it though. What if? Is a question that clouds my decision making no matter how insignificant the choice is. Alice smiles warmly back at me before continuing her commentary.

"The shampoo was a good choice I can smell it from here, you smell like Bella and you smell lush. The clothes? Well what can I say..you look fuck hot and that's not because I either bought or designed the majority of the clothes your wearing " she teases theatrically winking her eye before continuing,

"The suit in Starbucks? Wanker, that's all he is. The quote from the book? That's just a _book_ Bells. I bet you I could pick up that book, flick it to a random page and pick out a random quote which is relevant to some part of my life right now... plus its also an anti-war book."

She raises her perfectly sculpted eyebrows pointedly here. I just stare at her unsure what the hell that's got to do with anything.

" You know make love not war?"

Yeah... still don't know what she's really getting at. She shakes her head in weariness before continuing.

" And the coffee? you don't need the coffee to talk to the guy, Bells. Look on the bright side your worst case scenario of burning his balls with fresh roast didn't come true" She teases and smiles playfully as I let out a giggle. Her demeanor becomes more meaningful as she squeezes my hand to ensure shes got my full attention.

" Silly Bella. I just want to say one little thing and I'm not saying it to upset you, and I'm not preaching, I'm saying it because I love you..d'accord?"

I nod my head to indicate I understand and squeeze her hand back to reassure her its safe to scold me for whatever the heck it is shes about to scold me for.

"You've got to stop with all this planning shit malarkey! Seriously woman, real life sucks and never, ever, ever goes as planned. You just have to suck it up and deal with whatever fate flings your way. It's liberating to just take each minute as it comes, to do whatever you want without worrying about the implications or the what ifs. Just do whatever the fuck you want, whenever the fuck you want to do it, and fuck the what ifs?..okay?"

I nod my head and smile sheepishly, maybe I am becoming a bit obsessive with the whole planning thing, I did write out today's plan on post it notes complete with time references and stuck them around my room in prominent locations. Now that I think about it I don't really think that's healthy in any way...

" And that includes any plans revolving around coffee which are aimed to enable you to talk a man, Bells." She mocks lightheartedly, playful Alice is back in the building, or well park.. She glances down before rolling her eyes and continuing "You've got to let the coffee go ,Bells. Set it free!"

She laughs as she grabs the coffee I'm clutching from my hand. I didn't even realize I'd picked it back up, and laughs as she jumps up off the bench holding the cup in the air victoriously. Like I put up a fight... pshh its freezing cold.

"Now, Bells, there's nothing left for it I gotta destroy the coffee! set your little wanna be man meeting brain free from the restraints of evil coffee involved plans of courting!!"

She exclaims impishly before taking the lid off and bringing the freezing cold coffee to her lips, gulping a large amount down before spitting and spluttering it straight back out. The dark brown aerosol's of liquid spewing through the air in a fine mist and dribbling down her chin.

"Argh!!! what the fuck Bells! what's in there!"

She shouts as she flails the coffee cup hazardously and thrusts it towards my face. I make a grab for it as she scrapes at her tongue, that's now dangling out of her mouth, with her electric blue fingernails trying to get rid of the taste...nice.

" There's fucking _Rohypnol_ or something in there, Bells! Were you trying to fucking rape him or something!?"

She all but stage whispers to the whole of Central Park, but obviously her accusation is directed towards yours truly. She stares at me eyes wide and tongue dangling, I frown back at her in wonder before snorting, I cant decide if she's serious or not.. Its not long before I'm doubled over pissing myself laughing though and don't really give a shit if she thinks I'm a rapist.

Ahh, Alice... can always count on her to cheer me up although its never in the way you'd expect. I look up at her and try to contain the laughter but only end up gasping for breath before it bursts free again, this time however Alice's lips twitch a few times before her own giggles burst free.

When we finally stop cackling and the tears of laughter subside I can just about breathe again. After a few large gulps of lung piercingly sharp air I enlighten Alice to the fact its black coffee, bitter cold black coffee and not the warm milk with a splash of java to give the beverage a tan colored appearance the way she likes it. I also inform her with conviction that there are not any date rape drugs added. Not sure she buys it though as she continues to throw dubious glances my direction, and starts moaning about feeling dizzy and nauseous. I snicker again at her. I don't think I'll ever forget the expression on her face when she spat that coffee out it was definitely a youtube worthy moment.

A sigh escapes me as I think about how much of a clusterfuck this mornings been. I run my finger absently around the rim of the cup staring into the deep earthy brown of the coffee that's going to go to waste.

I got the good coffee as well all that poncy fair-trade organic eco-friendly whatever the fuck it is stuff. Alice senses the shift in my mood and launches into her attack at distracting me from all my fuckery by talking about the plans for my birthday next week. I'm going to be 22.. yay! (note sarcasm here) and Alice and Rose are planning a huge party at our apartment. Its really kind of unnecessary but they're insisting I have to have this party to make up for how shitty my 21st was last year.

And believe me my 21st was fucking shitty. I would do anything, absolutely anything, to eradicate the majority of the memories of that day from my brain. Purge every feeling from that day, the anguish, devastating betrayal and sheer cruelty. Abolish all of it, up until the moment I met Alice, and subsequently Rosalie. Which rather ironically was sitting on this exact bench nearly a year ago...

I scrunch my eyes tightly and shake my head to knock off the memories and focus back on Alice as she reals off lists of 'necessities' for the occasion. I'm pretty sure she said something about a Unicorn Pinata, not entirely positive that's a necessity for a 22nd birthday..

Anyway, this year Alice and Rose want to make up for last year by flinging me this crazy huge expensive shin-dig. I hate being the center of attention and the idea of everyone being there for me. Being completely aware of me, is unsettling to say the least and makes me feel all kinds of queasy. But I cant help but feel my mood lift exponentially as I listen to Alice excitedly describing what kind of decorations she wants to put up all over the apartment and roof garden. What food we should serve and what drinks we should have and how she wants to get professional bartenders into make cocktails, as well as catering staff and general waiters. Over the top, eccentric..yep that's Alice.

Then she goes on to talk animatedly about getting in a dj or tribute act to do some live music. Which I have to admit I love the idea of. We start discussing who we should invite and who we should blacklist, and easily have way too many people mentally noted than will fit in the apartment and considering the size of the apartment that's pretty ridiculous.

Alice is going on about trampolines, setting up her karaoke machine in the rooftop, circus freaks and magicians when I decide I better slow her down before she gets too carried away and we end up with flaming tigers or lions in cages up on the rooftop for aesthetic value. I cant help but laugh at how ridiculously enthused she can become, her eyes are sparkling as her she buzz's with eagerness to get the preparations underway.

Trying to get her mind away from ice sculptures and freaking champagne fountains I ask her about the one and only thing that can snap her out of this mode, clothes. More explicitly, what shes planning on wearing for the party.

Obviously, Alice knows exactly what shes going to wear right down to what jewelery and what perfume. She describes lovingly the deep purple strapless dress she designed and made herself a while back specifically for my birthday party. I'm really not surprised when she mentions she's also made Rose a black dress to wear for the occasion. She rambles on about how long it took her to decide on what material to use and what neck line would be best and I sit grinning as I watch her characteristic scratch behind her ear and wait for her to admit she's done the same for me.

"Yeah and,Bells, I also designed this really nice midnight blue dress that I just know you would look amazing in..I just finished and I really think you'll love it, its sort of matches in with like the feel of like me and Roses dresses and I was thinking you might want to wear it for your party.." She smiles angelically at me and bats her long eyelashes sassily.

Laughing at her I quickly agree to try the dress on, knowing full well it will be perfect. "Thanks Alice I'm sure I'll love it and I'm sure we will all look gorgeous in them all glam and matching"

I tease her "and not at all like the three musketeers in drag.." She smacks my arm playfully in return.

"Yeah well, I reckon we ought to head to work now and that means you can try the dress on.."

Her voice is at least 2 octaves higher than usual and she's practically jumping out of her seat in anticipation.

"Sure thing " I agree and turn to pack up my bag, placing my book inside delicately, feeling a bit shamefaced for abusing it earlier. I hear Alice literally jumping up out of her seat in excitement at this point and laugh as I rummage around trying to excavate all the condiments I stole from Starbucks.

I snort quietly when I hear her squeak in excitement, sounding a hell of a lot like a hamster I had when I was little. My one and only pet, Chunk. I loved him so. He was the best hamster in the world,he ate sun flower seeds all day long, let me dress him up in Barbies clothes, and sat on my knee watching the real Chunk in action, truffle shuffling it all over the place. Hmm, wonder how Alice and Rose would feel about getting a hamster..

I close my bag over after excavating all the condiments and swing it upon my shoulder placing all the sugar, sweeteners, milk and cream into my empty cup and picking it up in one hand. I leave out the napkins and pick them up in my other hand, so I can wipe a bit of dirt off one of my chucks before Alice spots it and goes apeshit on my ass for walking around with a huge dirty mark on my foot.

I then pick up my fake 'friend who stood me up's cup of half full coffee as well. I stare mesmerized by the little speckles of dust and vague particles which must flit and float about in the air which have came to rest on top of the dark abyss of the coffees surface. Fascinated by the fuzzy fragments I turn on my heel to head in the direction of the bin just along from my bench.

As I'm pivoting I hear Alice's strangely delighted voice shout out, "Bella! watch out!", but I'm too far gone. Way too immersed in the smidgens sailing on top of the dark sea of coffee to pay her any real attention.

How I wish I had..

The next thing I know I'm tripping over some kind of entity, in all probability my own feet are the culprits, I snap my eyes shut and fling the cups from my hands in preparation for the inexorable fall.

I'm disconcerted as my hands, in brace position, make contact with something almost instantly. Something firm yet softly supple at the same time, a sharp and quick tremor of vehement heat radiates through my palms. My breath catches in my throat as I gasp sharply at the sensation, my hands tingle with the afterglow and I revel in the feeling as it disseminates- the reaction gathering in my shoulders before surging and colliding with my chest.

I feel so relaxed, so catatonic I could literally just curl up and purr like a cat, as long as the sultry warmth comes with me.. I let out a contented sigh before inhaling slowly. As I do so my nose unearths a forbiddingly inviting smell, like fucking sin and heaven and all my freaking olfactory dreams dusted with cinnamon and drizzled in melted liquorice. My immediate conclusion is I've tripped up and I'm on the path...however, in my many, many close acquaintances with said path it has never, ever, once smelt like this. It smelt like piss and burnt plastic .

Okay, maybe not literally like piss and burnt plastic, but it sure as shit did not smell this alluring..so alluring infact, that I'm desperately, worriedly fighting the urge to lick it...

Shit, theres some kind of epic senses fail going on in my brain, my olfactory and gustatory systems seem to be rebelling and thrusting themselves towards the marvelous smell. Opening my eyes, in a lame attempt to rouse my sense of vision into making a rational judgement out of the situation, I look straight ahead and see my hands mere inches infront of my face, braced against something sable black.

I flatten my fingers upon the unidentified surface and flex my fingertips, sighing at the sensation of heat and hardness along the small ridges I feel underneath my fingers as I splay each digit out as distal as possible.

Apparently bringing my sense of vision into the equation isn't really helping either though, the black surface entices me and draws me in like light into a black hole. Smoothing my hands further down the soft convolutes embedded and protrubing from the blackness I freeze when the realisation that I'm able to do this without face planting into the ground finally registers. I scrunch my face up in confusion, I'm not on the ground..

Which can only mean one thing, I'm standing, and as far as I can remember in my senescent state there aint no walls in this area of the park, only trees and benches. But not black trees strangely enough, plus, Ive never touched a tree or that feels like this... Not that I make it a habit to grope trees. Fuck, grope. Is that really what I'm doing? What the hell am I touching? What the fuck am I rambling on about anyway, I'm not making any freaking sense here..

I struggle to tear my eyes away from the magnetism of the black but eventually I succeed and peer slightly down, past my hands and see what is unmistakably a pair of faded black skinny jeans with a button fly. A button fly with precisely three silver buttons which are practically bursting at the seams as they just about manage to perform their function of caging in the wonder hidden wherein, I know this because I spend what feels like a decade, yet still not nearly long enough an epoch, staring at the unmistakably male bulge as the buttons strain to...

Oh my god, its a person...

I'm groping a person...

I'm groping a male person...

Fuck!

Hastily I withdraw my hands from what I now realize is this male persons torso and fail miserably in subduing the urge to pout at the loss of connection. Shit on a stick! I was groping their ribcage, that's just a tiny, huge bit freaking weird and creepy. It fucking felt soo good though.. Hello, My name is Bella and I'm addicted to ribcage porn..

And I'm also addicted to this bulge. Seriously, I'm hypnotised, brings a whole new meaning to snake charmer this shit does, I'm pretty sure your supposed to charm the snake not be charmed by the snake . I feel like Mowgli being beguiled by Kaa in the Jungle book , _"Ssslip in to sssilent ssslumber, Sssail on a sssilver misst, ssslowly and sssurely your sssensssesss, Will csseassse to resssisst". _What is this ressistance you speak of? Wait a fucking minute why am I singing songs from the Jungle Book?what the hells happening here? where's my IQ gone? Help..anyone?

I cant tear my eyes away from the buttons and I know I should, this is not normal Bella. Not normal at all, but I cant help but gawp spellbound as the bulge dazzles and fucks with my compos mentis as it sparkles in the sun.

No shit.

I kid you fucking not. Its fucking sparkling. This dudes junk or well jeans anyway are sparkling in the sun. And the reason as to why his crotch seems to have evolved this alluring property, well I've went and spilt, actually I flung, coffee all over his crotch and general abdominal area.

Fuck... there's coffee flavoured peen in licking distance.

Gah!, I need serious psychiatric help. Someone needs to lock me up, stage an intervention or drown me in holy water one of the three, because the images flashing through my psyche right now are securing my deposit for a one way ticket to freaking Hell. _We could put some honey on the coffee peen to sweeten it up.._ Yeah wondered how long it would take for my libidos internal commentary to perk up, unsurprisingly shes still obsessed with honey. I somehow muster the strength to finally drag my eyes down past the -lord save my soul- sparkling coffee peen, and feel my heart start to race and convulse violently within my chest as my eyes absorb the sight before them.

Black Doc Martens. Black, scuffed up, unlaced, with the illustrious blue paint splash on the right toe, Doc Martens. Yep and queue the third Bella freak out of the day, and possibly the final freak out of my short-lived and inchoate life, since I seem to be going into cardiac arrest as reality hits. Because there's absolutely zilcho doubt in my mind now about exactly whose ribcage I was groping mere seconds ago and who the titleholder of the sparkly diamond coffee peen is. Fucking Guitar Guy.

I feel slightly sick, hot and splendidily bothered at this discovery, and a whole shit load more turned on. I quickly snap my head up, eyes fleetingly following the trail of black, until I'm immobolised, ensnared and wantonly besieged in emerald green. Yet , I feel unbeleivably free, as if I'm floating..

A spark, an electric pulsation flares the clandestine atmosphere as I stare into his bright curious gaze. Well I think its curious.. I cant get over just how fucking exquisitely green his eyes are. So bright ,so freaking shiny, and I'm the thieving Magpie who wants to hoard them away in her little nest as toys or play-pretties. _Id rather the glistening coffee peen came into our little nest box... _At least my libido still seems to be coherent in the absence of my self-respect, cognitive processes and IQ...

Unfortunately all good things must come to an end, and he's the first to break our bizarre connection, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks down. I watch infatuated as his coppery hair flops onto his forehead wild and compelling. My fingers twitch at the prospect of reaching up and giving it a good yank. _We'd rather yank his chain..._I've got two hands for yanking, dont worry, I can multitask and I'm all over this like a scabby rash..

Before I manage to build up the momentum to actually give his hair a good tug, the softest most sultry chuckle embraces me, and I'm once again submerged in green. Beaming green, which is matched with beaming brown as a ridonkulous grin spreads across my face, the exertion stretching my cheeks and producing that splendidly dull throb usually experienced after prolonged periods of laughter. Also known as prolonged periods of time spent with Rose and Alice. Or with ice cream. Or looking at this man...

I want to pour amber on this moment, basque in it forever and a day. Trapped like those prehistoric mosquitoes for eternity. I want desperately to be stuck in this moment, though I'm not sure the mosquitoes did..

Our eyes stay locked again for a long beat before his gaze breaks away once more, his eyes fleetingly caressing my features. I bite my lip nervously, I'm pretty sure all the emotions I'm experiencing right now, the lust, infatuation and wanton are inscribed clearly across my face. Can we rewind back a few seconds, I want the beaming green back... His breath hitches as the path of his eyes falters, the heat of his gaze descending upon my lips. I bite down even harder under his scrutiny. _Interesting..._

I miraculously manage to quell my Libidos plans of biting my lip hard enough to draw blood, _just to see how he reacts_ and use his distracted state to my advantage, quickly absorbing his whole face. Sweet Lincolns Mullet! he's H.O.T.T., hot!.. Oh god, Ive turned into a crushing teen girl. Seriously, I cant form sentences anymore. Bullet points, that I can do:

o- Eyebrows. Dark, furrowed menacing eyebrows

o- Eyes. The most beautiful greenish blue eyes I have ever seen. Scratch that. The most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. There's even traces of topaz speckled throughout, with a little aggregate of colour in his right eye, making it appear darker than the other..so I wasnt tripping then.

o- Cheek bones. Chiseled, chiseled, chiseled..

o- Nose. Perfectly straight and pointing downwards at the end, perfectly.

o- Skin, lightly tanned with a few faint yet adorable freckles scattered across the bridge of his perfect nose.

o- Stubble. There's fucking stubble, nuff said.

o- Jaw, Holy fuck is that a jaw, its reduced me to the mental age of a baby. I have the undesirable need to put it in my mouth and bite it. Mouthing, I think that's what its called when a baby does it,"A Gruesome Cannibalistic Scene in Central Park" is most like how the NYPD would describe my actions...

Releasing my lip I breathe out a heady sigh, this seems to set Guitar Guy free from his daydreaming and once again his eyes snap up to meet my own.

This time however his green eyes pierce me somewhat timorously, and I stare back frowning as I try to comprehend whats made him so diffident. The emotions shy and insecure are emotions I would never attach to this devastatingly handsome, amazingly musically talented man..

The green starts to sway and I realize he's shifting his weight from foot to foot intermittently, obviously uncomfortable with the fact I'm gawking at him. I can only imagine what I must look like right now.

Embarrassed by my own decorum, I internally role my eyes at myself and look down focusing on the blue paint splash on his boot. So much for playing it cool and nonchalant, Bella. Why am I talking about myself in the third person? Oh yeah, the incoherency, thats right...from the tremendously close proximity of the pretty.

I feel even more mortified as the effects of vasodilatation set in. Every single red blood cell in my body is fighting for a prime place on the surface of my skin, trying to get a swatch at the hotness that is Guitar Guy no doubt.

Or maybe its the green of his eyes attracting them..reds opposite of green isn't it? Why the fuck am I thinking about this right now? Ah, the incoherency again...

I resort to biting my lip once more, this time in an effort to divert some of the blood flow to the lips on my face instead of my cheeks, and also instead of my other more_ intimate _lips which seem to be heating up at an alarming rate right now... I bite down, even harder, in an attempt to override the tingling building elsewhere and taste coffee on my lips. Which only results in reminding me of the coffee flavored peen-sicle which is currently within dangerously close reach, dangerous for him anyway.

The white of the napkins I was about to use to clean up my chucks catches my eye as it rests on the path. I quickly bend down, kneeling on the ground to pick them up. Bad fucking idea. I can literally feel the heat radiating off his legs, his thighs, his strong, masculine, muscular thighs, sigh.. I'm way too close to them. _Mayday! Mayday! Shes gonna bite!._. I have an overwhelming rush of blood to the head. Well not exactly a head rush more of a tongue-rush? Apparently my Libido has decided the coffee peen-sicle should be licked. She's managed to sweet talk all my red blood cells into manning their battle station's situated on the tip of my tongue, while singing some atrociously bad dance tunage, _"I wanna lick it, I wanna taste it, I wanna feel it, I wanna suck on your lollipop!!"_ That is some battle cry I tell you, even I'm scared, and I wouldnt mind a suck. Infact I might pray for one..

I somehow manage to push myself up onto my feet just in time as my tongue darts hungrily out along my lower lip completely out of my control. _Mmm...coffee._ Yeah, lick it up RBCs its all your getting, no coffee peen-sicle today, maybe one day though..

Right, fix the fuckery, Bella. Starting with the coffee stains. I set about my mission after obtaining the napkins and commence wiping up the coffee stains on the poor guys shirt. I stick to my job staunchly, mopping up as much of the coffee as I possibly can from his saturated shirt. _I know another item of clothing saturated right now_. Fuck not helping.

Head back in the game Bella! My eyes bug out of my head and I almost whimper when I realize I've unintentionally, or perhaps my Libido's succeeded in hijacking my body and has very consciously, started to work on the coffee on his crotch... _Well hello there Big boy._

Narrowly avoiding blacking the fuck out in a comatose state of arousal, I become aware of the absurd hyena like cackling coming from my left hand side. Apparently Guitar Guy notices the ruckus as well because he speedily backs up taking a long step away from me. Boo! I scarcely resist the itch to scream _"Eeehhhhh!" _like the buzzer in America's Got Talent at the distance now between us.

The cackling continues while my brain finally catches up with the present and takes a break from imagining just what the coffee peen-sicle would taste like. _Honey, coffee, and man... _Yep, my Libidos got it sussed out already. Ah fuck... I threw coffee all over Guitar Guy, groped his rib cage and then proceeded to grope his crotch, because the ribcage just didn't provide enough ammunition for fantasies whilst doing the old dickless dildo dance..

Mentally smacking myself up on the head multiple times. _I know what else I'd like to do multiple times,_ shit libido simmer down. I blurt out in a completely inappropriately carnal, husky voice which fully contradicts the statement.

"Shit, I'm so sorry!"

Arms flailing uncontrollably in some strange pitiful attempt to pass the napkins which I used to soak up the coffee from his crotch. My hand however, seems to not want to cooperate and is refusing to separate with the memento, clinging on to the napkins as though they are some kind of prize. I finally regain some decree of control and push my hand out to him silently offering the napkins at the exact same time he exclaims in a them to him at the exact same time he exclaims in a resonating tone,

"Fuck, I'm so sorry!"

* * *

**A/N**

Houston! We have contact ! *sprays silly string* woop! woop! We can get to the good stuff now, hopefully Bells will get to do the dildoless dick dance soon :P

Anyway, super nervous about this chapter, and every chapter really lol, so please be my betas and let me know how it reads. I find it hard to be objective, surprisingly enough...

I cant edit for shit, seriously (like you's havent noticed) *shakes head at self* I write this stuff and think " Well, Ive wrote the words down, Ive committed to them, I may as well put them out there.." Which is why its took me about 40,000 words to get them to say a few words to each other * face palm* fuck knows I'm probably going to end up writing the loooongggesssttt lllllleeeeeeeemmmmmooooonnnnn in the jizztory, I mean history *snort* of fanfic...

Next chapter will pick up with EPOV, and if I can somehow find my edit button ill cut out loads of crap and start right off from where we ended with Bells..

Give a gal some encouragement and hit that **review** button!

Yay's, nay's and random abuse are most welcome !

lulu x

P.S. Watching Rob at the BAFTA's, fuck me the boys looking goooood!! *drool*


	7. Chapter 7

***Lulu casually waltz's back into the fandom and waves* **

**Sooo, I'll start off by saying I'm really sorry about the lack of updates lately, but well, some really good things happened and then some really bad things happened, to cut a long story short RL happened. **

**And now I think I need to apologise again since this chapter is basically the same as last chapter except its from Edwards point of view. I wasnt planning on doing this chapter from EPOV originally, I planned on just picking up where I left off from BPOV, but I found this way helped me get back into the story again (not writing for a few months was really weird) I'm thinking I'll switch back to BPOV next chapter and stay with her for quite a bit iin order to resist the urge to do recap chapters from EPOV all the time, if you hate the idea of only BPOV let me know, thats if anyones out there still... lol**

**Right, I think this is the first chapter without any music references in the text o.O, I did however steal a line from a Damien Rice song and manipulate it in there somewhere, kudus if you spot it : P The song is called '_Dogs'_. I kind of fancy the Ricemaster, just thought I'd let that out there..**

**Disclaimer: I dont own Twilight does. I also dont own Damien Rice or anything to do with him. I dont own Kramer or Seinfield either. I want to own Robs asscandy, badly. I do own a peice of paper now that says I have a degree in Biochemistry *Lulu fist pumps air* (thats one of the good things that happened in RL).**** I still dont get the whole Beta thing so this is unbeta'd. **

**Chapter 6- Coffee/ Choices – The Balls or The Face**

Lick. Suck. Release. Nibble.

Lick. Suck. Release. Nibble.

Lick. Suck. Release. Nibble.

_Ugh.._

I know she isn't actually here. In my bed. In my fucking life. Park Girl that is. I'm perfectly fucking aware of that fact. But under the cloak of my early morning brain fog, floating blissfully between my lust filled dream state and the cold reality of being wide awake, I could _swear_ she was.

I can _feel _her. Velvety soft and smooth curls of long brown hair fanning across my stomach. Urgent fingers grasping, burning, nails scraping my thighs. Soft supple lips tracing the skin of my right hip bone. Licking. Sucking. Releasing. Nibbling.

_Ugh.._

I slowly grind my hips in my hazy covetous state in a desperate and somewhat pathetic attempt to seek out the warmth of her lips, the slide of her tongue and dragging of her teeth along my..

_UGH, Fuck .. _

My eyes fly open as I half moan and half hiss at the sensation and friction created as my too sensitive head rubs along the slightly roughened texture of my bed sheets. I suddenly fully and completely understand the need for soft as fuck Egyptian Cotton bed linen.

Groaning, I role onto my back and palm myself . Fuck I seriously need to get laid. Its sick how many times a day I'm rubbing one off, yesterday it was 5. I mean come on its masturbation not fruit.

Driving the heels of both hands into the sockets of my eyes I attempt to remove the sleep and wake the fuck up. I scratch my fingers along my jaw as I debate whether or not a shave is in order- as well as whether or not I can actually be arsed to do so.

Rolling back over onto my stomach I stretch out reaching towards the bedside table and run a hand along the smooth surface in search of my phone,_ time_ will be the deciding factor. Two circuits later and still no phone, I concede defeat and pry my eyes open. Propping myself up on my elbows I squint at the very empty and surprisingly fucking clean and shiny oak surface of the table.

_Strange, where the fucks my phone.._

Puzzled, I check the floor next to the table huffing out as it turns out to be similarly uninhabited. Coming more into the land of the living now as a result of sheer fucking confusion I sit up in bed kicking the sheets off. That's when I see it, sitting halfway down the bed, its scratched to hell screen refracting beams of light across the walls as the sun bursts through the tiny gap in the curtains letting a slither of sun shine across my bed. It doesn't take long to work out whats happened..

_FUCK._

I'm almost too chickenshit to check the time._ Almost_. Have I said FUCK yet, because_ FUCK_ its 9.38. I should have been there nearly 20 minutes ago. Scrambling out of bed I dart around the room nonsensically grabbing clothes off the floor and flinging them on as I go. Two minutes later and I'm fully dressed, well fuck that's a lie but I'm clothed anyway in a black T-shirt (inside out), crumpled black hoodie, faded black jeans and scratched to sin black Docs. No socks no boxers. That would have required opening a drawer and time is of the fucking essence.

I feel naked as I run out of my bedroom slamming the door behind me for no real reason other than to take out my own fucking stupidity on something inanimate that cant fight back. I don't feel naked due to the lack of boxers, hell no, as Kramer once said so eloquently"I'm out there, Jerry and _lovin'_ every minute of it", or the socks for that matter, although the lack of socks doesn't feel nearly as good. Its the lack of guitar in hand feels all kinds of fucked up... But I've gotta stick it out, no guitar today, no singing, no fucking a acapella serenades either, only talking. _Shit I'm not looking forward to this.._

Running out of the apartment I make a mad dash for the elevator. Bouncing on the balls of my feet I grumble angrily at how long the elevators taking. For fuck sake I've got a place to be. Thirty seconds later I abandon the elevator and sprint down the stairs. As long as I keep moving I feel like I'm getting somewhere..funnily enough.

I keep running when I reach street level weaving myself carefully, well as carefully as you possibly can when your over 6ft tall and lanky as hell, through the hordes of people swarming around the streets. I nearly get knocked down by a fucking _Smart Car_ of all things as I cross the road, I let out a little bit more of my pent up anger at my own stupidity by shouting abuse at the driver. I mean come on, get a real fucking car.. Death by Smart Car has to be the most embarrassing way to die. Actually, dying like Goose in Top Gun might be worse. Snapping your neck while ejecting from a plane during a training exercise only to allow Tom Cruise to overact his way through the last forty minutes of a movie...yeah not a good way to go.

Loosening the death grip I currently have on my phone I mount up some nerve and check the time again only to start panicking like an assclown when I see its now 9.51. I should have been there more than half an hour ago. _Fuck sake.._I don't even remember my alarm going off this morning never mind turning it off and going back to fucking sleep..

Finally, I reach the entrance to the park and slow down to a jog before coming to a complete halt. Bending over I rest my hands on my knees and pant out in short fast breaths from the exertion. _Shit, I'm one unfit fucker.._ Straightening up I use the sleeve of my hoodie to swipe away the sweat from my forehead before pushing the sleeves up to my elbows and unzipping it in a lame ass attempt to cool down. Since there's no way I can take it off with my inside out fucking T-shirt underneath without looking like a total fucktard.

I give myself a pep talk and attempt to fool myself mentally into believing I'm cooler now and no longer sweating like a fucking pig before setting off again jogging through the park. Naturally, I end up stuck behind a bunch of women with little kids in prams. It pisses me off for about 10 seconds that they have to walk in a big fucking line like that blocking everyone's way but I cant find it in me to stay in a foul mood when I see a little red headed boy with mischievous eyes and a chocolate smothered face smiling up at me. _Yep, he's definitely gonna be a handful when he's up and walking.. _Grinning back at him I quickly skirt around the path hogger's, and cut across the grass. Back on the main path I pick up my pace once more and keep running along as I reach the smaller quieter path to the right, legging it until I arrive at the fork at the end. Coming to a stop once more I let out the breath I hadn't been aware I was holding in, instantly feeling more comfortable as the tightness in my chest eases up, the feeling doesn't last long though..

Fuck, I'm really gonna do this...Well, if she's still here I am.

Taking a deep breath I close my eyes and count to 10 before releasing it in a lengthy whoosh. I run my fingers through my hair and tug on it roughly pulling from the back to front before dragging my hands over my face and scratching my stubble nervously. Before I can change my mind I snap my eyes open and take the few small steps needed to round the corner.

I see her instantly and relief floods through my body. I can feel the corners of my lips twitching, striving to turn up into a smile but the motion is dampened by the nervous energy running through my system as it kicks into overdrive. I'm still freaking the fuck out too much about actually talking to her to allow it to grow into anything other than an inadequate and possibly painful looking grimace.

She's facing the opposite direction from me, leaning forward on her bench but sitting in her usual tangled way, book in hand, as usual. I take another step forward knowing there's no way I can walk home today without knowing. There's just no way back now. Fuck, I don't want to go back, I want to know what this is, I want to know her, I want to know.. us. _I officially just lost 26 years worth of man points in those last few thoughts._ Another step, and I've certifiably crossed the Rubicon. Which definition of certifiable I'm using here is open to interpretation...

She shifts position then, leaning back against the support of the bench enough to let me see she's not alone. There's this tiny little girl sitting next to her. Not tiny little as in a kid but tiny as in I'm pretty sure she could be medically classified as a midget. Fuck, that's not very PC is it? well, I'm only thinking that shit I wouldn't say it out loud to her.

The kid-woman's bouncing in her seat talking animatedly to Park Girl her arms and hands gesticulating wildly. Well that or shes planning on being the next Buster Keaton. I watch them curiously as I continue walking towards Park Girls bench in small but sure steps, as I get closer and closer though I falter in my resolve. Its been what 40 seconds and already I'm shooting the Rubicon to hell, pulling out my little dingy boat and flipping Caesar the bird..

What the fuck do I do?

I cant just barge over there like a complete jerkwad and interrupt them. Plus I'm not too sure how I feel about having an audience to the fuckery that's about to go down. And by go down, I mean me making an arse of myself and stuttering out my name while Park Girl and her little friend laugh at my emasculation.

Laughter floats down the path towards my ears and I freeze mid-step trying to observe it, I just know its her as the hairs on my arms stand on end. _Well maybe if my emasculation makes her laugh like that it would be worth it.._ I'm still frozen there mid-step considering just how much I value my virility when the two of them start to move around as though getting ready to leave. Yep, the kids paused her arm flailing to pick up her bag and fling it on her shoulder, definitely leaving.

Shit..

I'm still a bit away from them. What the fuck do I do _now_? I contemplate the option of shouting over to her for a few seconds, but seriously, what am I gonna shout "Park Girl, don't _leave_!"? Id sound like a shitpickle and she'd think I was mental. _Positively, not the impression I was planning on leaving her with..._ I have to do somethingthough, just thinking about the repercussions of what Emmett and Jazz will do if I don't man up are horrifying and would more likely than not result in my spending some quality time in the nick. That shit wouldn't be pleasant for anyone, least of all me, at least this way Park Girl might get a laugh out of the fucked up situation I've created for myself.

So I push my legs to move and walk up to them, and I mean like_ right _the fuck up to them like some creep who doesn't know what personal space is. As soon as I get there, and I mean like _inches_ away from Park Girl and all her perfection, I fucking freeze again and stuff my hands into my hoodie pockets to avoid the overwhelming urge to touch her and get her attention. Since, I'm pretty sure, what would begin as an innocent 'tap' on the elbow would uncontrollably turn into a full on arm molestation.

What the hell do I do _now_? I was so fucking focused on getting to this initial point I didn't actually think, at all, about what exactly I was going to do when I accomplished it. Shit. _Think _Edward. Racking my brain for a coherent thought as to what the right thing to do in this situation is I come up empty.

There's nothing fucking right about this situation, its got WRONG stamped all over it in huge ass SHOUTY capitals. _Just head over to your own bench and face the fact. You. Are. A. Pussy._

I'm officially back on dry land hiding underneath my rubber dingy, bye bye Rubicon, it was swell while it lasted...

I'm not fast enough though. I only manage to swivel one foot in the direction of my bench before the tiny kid-woman turns around and looks right up at me with these unnaturally huge eyes. I freeze again because apparently I'm having some kind of epic muscular motor control issues today. She lets out thisreally strange squeaky sound, its not a terrified 'there's a creepy guy all up I'm my face' squeak but more like an excited ' I just heard the Beatles for the first time' squeak? Yeah, strange.

Well, not as strange as me I suppose.

She steps back slightly arching an eyebrow and pouting her lips as she appraises me slowly from head to toe and yeah, colour me confused. I expected some up close and personal grand arm flailing, perhaps some shouting of 'who the _fuck_ are you?' but instead I'm being studied curiously by old big eyes here.

I watch on dumbfounded as her doll like eyes move from my scratched to fuck Docs, to my faded jeans and black T-shirt where she pauses. Her eyebrow drops. I beg internally she hasn't noticed my T's on inside out, because yeah, way to look like a total douchebag.. I can normally dress myself, honestly, sometimes I have issues with buttoning up shirts but that's beside the point.

Her eyes narrow to more or less the size of a normal human beings and zone in on my chest, bemused I look down following her line of sight to see what's caught her attention. Shit.. its either the inside out seem of my T or if I'm lucky, _as if_, its the tops of the few letters of my tattoo that are visible across my chest. I look back towards her face checking for any sign of sniggering, since I would totally snigger if someone had their clothes on inside out, but she's moved on already. Her eyes are mega once more as they peer up towards my own inspecting the mess of hair on my head and the stubble across my chin and jaw. I'm assuming she's completed her examination since her eyes flip back to meet mine after she's taken in the confused expression I'm sure is plastered across my face.

Both of her eyebrows shoot up instantly and she breaks out into a huge smile as her eyes sparkle with that same 'I've just heard the Beatles for the first time'' excitement, I'm assuming I passed her inspection at this point, and she starts practically dancing on the spot.

I kid you fucking not, the situations ridiculous and I almost scold her for her lack of self preservation. She should be shouting "Hobo Pervert!" at me and making the swift decision of whether to smack up my balls or face first, but instead of telling her off, I meet her smile with a goofball grin of my own.

Goofball, folks, is probably not the best look to pull out when your about to try and impress the object of months worth of lusting after but in that moment I couldn't really stop myself even if I wanted to. The kids happy vibes are infectious.

I watch her still grinning as she jitterbugs her body around until she's facing Park Girl, who's back has been towards us the whole time - completely unaware of the peculiar silent exchange which has occurred mere inches behind her over the last 20 seconds or so. I turn my head to face her too when out of the blue I hear the trilling voice of the little ball of energy next to me shouting out-

"Bella, shit watch out !"

But it's too late, I don't even get a few prerequisite seconds to dwell on how perfectly named the perfect _Bella_ is before I'm cold. Like really, really cold. Wet and fucking cold in the groin area. Yeah, this isn't good.

Bella's foot hits mine as she turns around colliding with my torso and for god knows what reason she launches the cups in her hands, sending them flying, and the cold coffee within soaring, through the air, landing all over my dick. And fuck me if it doesn't feel good in a sticky, twisted, sick, coffee fetish kind of way. What feels even better though is the fact she now has her tiny little hands braced against my torso, her fingers radiating magnetic heat as they spread out, flexing, as if searching for something.

I watch her cautiously as her eye lashes flutter against her cheeks for a few moments before she finally opens her eyes staring straight ahead at her hands splayed out across either side of my ribcage. She makes a quiet sound and I'm almost positive she's sniffing me. Almost, but not quite, since I'm currently failing in my subtle attempt to snort up her Strawberry Summery smelling hair...

Gently she pushes her fingers as far out as she can, before slowly and softly feathering them along and down the ridges of my ribs. _Fuck me that feels all kinds of wonderful...__S_he seems to be in some kind of daze or something as she continues to watch her hands as they begin to drag the fabric of my T-shirt and descend down towards my abdomen and I really should stop her before...fuck...

That happens.

The heels of her hands make contact with the top of my jeans and she freezes. Her head bobs as she swiftly looks down and in a flash her hands are gone.. Yet she's still staring down. Fuck.. _button fly jeans,_ and I'm left praying I haven't had any button related issues dressing myself this morning.

Her head bobs lower down and I loosen my grasp on the inside lining of my pockets to dig my fingernails into the palms of my hands. Coping mechanism, I need pain, anything to stop thinking about her bobbing head or what I'd like that bobbing head to do to my possibly/likely exposed hard-on.

Her head finally snaps up towards mine and then all I can see is big, wide, shiny fucking brown eyes. She looks absolutely scared stiff and I want to point out to her little friend that_ this_ is how your supposed to react when men twice your size come a creepin up behind you, but I refrain and instead watch her curiously as her expression relaxes slightly and that wonted blush erupts, spreading over her cheeks colouring them pink and warm**. **Fuck this shouldn't be turning me on. Furrowing my eyebrows at how fucking weird that is, I quickly look down. I don't want to scare her by just standing there gawking like some kind of sexual deviant, but when I look back up at her she's, well, she's gawking at me and I momentarily let slip the precarious hold I'd been maintaining over the many nervous chuckles tied up in my chest.

She smiles up at me, an honest, genuine smile, one that causes her whole face to light up and I grin impossibly wider, my cheeks burning from the pull.

I'm just standing there staring at her happy eyes like a complete fool before some form of lucidity comes over me and the actuality of the situation- of how fucking close to her I am and the likeliness that I never will be this close to her again- sets in. The need to make the most of the moment then engulfs me and I flick my eyes purposefully over her features taking in and frantically trying to commit to memory the heart shape of her face, the angle of her lovely cheekbones and thin nose as well as her narrow jaw and slightly pointed chin all covered by the most exquisite almost translucent pale skin. Her lips are plump and blood red, an unreal contrast against her pale skin. Her long curling brown hair and chocolate brown eyes further contrast against her flawless skin. She's just, like an angel, burning my eyes..

Then to make things worse, or perhaps better depending on your point of view, she bites down on her full bottom lip which seriously doesn't help my current bodily state. She's fucking killing me here.. I fight back a groan rather successfully, but epically fail to control my breath from hitching as she bites down harder worrying away at her lip before releasing it. I drag my eyes away from her lips to meet her gaze once more. Her eyes are full of questions and I know this is the moment. The moment to man up. Man up and say something _anything_ before I embarrass myself further.

_Eh..._

_.._

_._

I'm coming up empty though and honestly, starting to freak the fuck out, I even attempt the old _What Would Emmett Do?_ technique which just adds a whole other level of fuckery onto the situation since now all I can hear is Emmett's ridiculous _'suck the cock of life_' advice running through my head. I'm pretty sure even Emmett wouldn't say that right now. So instead of actually saying anything I decide to block eons worth of Darwinian Evolution of man and revert back to acting like a scaredy-cat little boy, shifting my weight from side to side nervously and waiting for her to make the first move..

Whether or not she notices my discomfort I don't know but she quickly casts her eyes away from mine and bobs her head downward again. _Come on, stop with the head bobbing already_..

_Whoa, what the fuck._. before I know what's happening she's ducking down, kneeling, on the ground, head, mouth, lips, tongue... just fucking _there. _I need longer fucking nails, where the fucks the pain.. Next thing I know she's sprung back up onto her feet clutching a bunch of white napkins in her hand that I'm assuming she dropped when she launched the cups earlier and then... she proceeds to wipe me down.

_She's wiping me down..._

I just stand there. Stupefied. Watching her in a daze for god knows how long as she goes at it starting at my abdomen again before descending...just fucking _there. _I cant believe this is actually sordid little bubble of perverseness is soon burst though when I hear the silliest laugh I've ever heard a girl make in my entire life coming from Bella's kid-woman-hyena hybrid friend as she cackles her fucking head off doubling over, smacking her thighs and pointing at the both of us.A move which finally gets a reaction out of me, well the right kind of reaction out of me anyway. I take a step back to get Bella's hands off of me which turns out to be a lot harder than I thought it would be and take a huge breath to try and calm myself the fuck down.

Then I do what's been ingrained into me since I was a kid by Esme, well I may have added the expletive myself over the years, and apologise. Not your normal apology though, somewhere in my fucked up subconscious I decide shouting it rather than merely saying it like a normal person will convey the appropriate level of my sorrow to her. I cringe as I hear my own voice resonating and bouncing off the trees enclosing us-

"Fuck, I'm so sorry!"

Nanoseconds after my outburst Bella's voice overwhelms my senses deep and rough as she throatily whispers,

"Shit, I'm so sorry!"

I watch her, bemused by her tone and actions as she seemingly wrestles with her own floundering arms to gain control of herself and push the napkins she's still gripping in her hands in my direction. A few seconds later and she either gives in or succeeds I'm not sure but she flings the napkins against my chest where they bounce off and return to the ground.

If possible the high pitched cackling from the kid-woman-hyena hybrid busts up a notch as does the whacking sound resulting from her continued thigh slapping. Next thing I know she's smacked one of her happy-slapping hands down onto my forearm and one onto Bella's forearm, gripping on as if to save herself from falling over. She keeps cackling away the whole time before hollering out-

"Oh man, you guys...you guys are too fucking much!..I'm gonna piss myself here!"

She proceeds to jig her legs around until shes crossing them over yet continues to twist around while she dangles off our forearms as though that's going to actually have any effect on her incontinence problem. And _I_ was worried about making a dodgy first impression.. This girls just plain bizarre... and I fucking love it.

Looking back over at Bella to see how shes reacting to her friends behavior I find her trying to smother a smile behind her free hand by pushing down on the corners of her mouth with her fingers before she gives in completely. Flinging her hand up in the air as though exasperated, she lets go, her laughter coming fizzing out in a loud and girly giggle followed closely behind with an even louder not so girly snort. And then another even louder snort.

Looking between the two I cant help but join them letting out all the nervous laughter I've been stifling all morning until my eyes are watering.

Now, these, are _my_ kind of people...

* * *

**A/N-** Next chapter soon. Until then feel free to leave a review or just some random abuse...


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